


A Fate Unknown: Inquisition

by TruthandChaos



Series: A Fate Unknown [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthandChaos/pseuds/TruthandChaos
Summary: Sequel to A Fate Unknown. Elyria made the choice to come back to Thedas. Things do not play out the way she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are not coming from my original story, please go to my author page and find A Fate Unknown. Read that first before reading this.
> 
> There was some confusion in my last story, so I'm going to post this at the top:
> 
> ELYRIA IS NOT A SELF INSERT. She is a redesigned OC that I reallocated from another story that was never completed. All original characters are based on a real person. All descriptions of these people are based on the real person the character is modeled after. That includes Elyria.
> 
> As with all my fiction, I write to a soundtrack. Usually I will include all songs at the beginning of the chapter.

Bastille - Pompeii

One Republic - Counting Stars

Rag'n'Bone Man - Human

Blue October - Hate Me

World of Warcraft feat. Laura Bailey - Daughter of the Sea

Daft Punk - Instant Crush

Imagine Dragons - Whatever It Takes

George Ezra - Did You Hear the Rain?

* * *

**A Fate Unknown: The DAI Sequel**

**Chapter 1:**

The back pressed against mine moves. He is bracing his shield to take a blow that probably would have lopped my head off. Another shriek moves in and it clicks at me, raising obscenely long arms with thick, disfigured sickles where hands should be. Somewhere to our left Shale is bellowing and slamming things left and right. Aedan drives his sword into the neck of a genlock and the gurgle it makes sounds almost like it is right next to me. The shriek presses in again, trying to get past my defenses, and again I block from two different directions. Alistair's back is fully tense now, he's slamming his weapon against anything that comes near us. Leliana's arrow shots are coming closer together while our resident mages have gone back to back.

_We're being swarmed._

My concentration breaks for barely a breath as another creature clicks to the left of us. The shriek lunges. The blood from my torn muscle seems to spray as it drags the tip of its scythe through my flesh.

I was awake in my bed a breath later. My collarbone and shoulder felt sore in muscle memory of old scars. Though if I looked the scar wouldn't be there. It felt as if it should be present. In response I rolled my shoulder a few times, loosening up the tight feeling. My whole body felt stiff. Whether from the tension in my muscles or from paralyzing fear, I don't know. My heart beat began to slow, the adrenaline dissipated.

I shouldn't have started playing that game.

Dragon Age: Inquisition.

I'd been playing non-stop for almost two days. Viola left me to it as long as I ventured out of my room to eat, shower and attend to other bodily functions. Though, truth be told, this was the first night I'd had a dream about being back in the Deep Roads.

Last night it was a conversation I had with Shale. Her raspy voice came back to me as clear as a bell in the world of dreams and phantasms. She asked about my world, about golems and the vermin of the sky. I told her about New York pigeons. Her protestations followed me all the way back to world of the waking.

A shudder that slid down my spine, reminding me of my aunt. She always said it was someone walking over my grave. Another shudder, harder this time. It shook my shoulders and reverberated down my arms. I told Alistair, Wynne, and later Fenris, if I died to burn me and scatter my ashes to the sea.

The deities I've prayed to in my life could fight out my eternity amongst themselves for all I cared.

The birds weren't singing outside yet. Too early I supposed. My kindle, my new kindle that I ordered from Amazon a couple of weeks ago, displayed the time at the top of the screen. Four eighteen a.m., Monday May twenty eighth, twenty eighteen.

I've been home almost two months. It took me that long to work up the courage to pay Inquisition. I didn't import any files, though I did create a new Warden and Hawke in the Dragon Age Keep. The new computer Viola bought for me held up well under the punishment of other games, like They Are Billions and RAFT.

I spent a lot of the last two months buried in doing research on Dragon Age, binge watching shows that I enjoyed while I was gone or playing other games.

The house was quiet as I got up and went downstairs to make myself something to eat. I'd finally gained weight, and was holding steady at a comfortable one thirty one. Viola told me she was happy not to feel my ribs when she hugged me.

My parents were back in the United States. Our family home was Viola's legally, and had been for a quite a while. Our parents had purchased a condo down in Florida, and spent most of their time travelling or volunteering. For the first two weeks they stayed in our family home and once they were sure I was okay, they went home.

Eventually my story did hit the news, though my miraculous return to the real world was little more than a blurb buried in the pages of the New York Post and Newsday. I suppose I wasn't worth of the New York Times. Things began to go back to normal, with my old friends coming around and eventually getting used to the new me.

The new me that could grab a pickpocket mid lift and break his wrist. The new me that clotheslined a purse thief and held him down until the cops came. The new me that observed a room before walking completely into it. The new me that kept her back to a wall and watched windows and doors. The new me that knew exactly how many people came into a room and left it without looking up.

Thedas changed me in ways I hadn't thought about before coming home.

For one, I didn't feel like I was home. Eight years away, three in college and five in Thedas, left me feeling distant. No matter how Viola had changed, or how warm my parents were now compared to the people they were before.

My mother cooked me breakfast. Actually cooked. She hadn't done that since I was small. My mother asked me about someone special. Before Thedas, during college and most of my teenage years, my mother didn't care about my love life. It began when I didn't associate with the children and families, that she preferred I associate with in elementary school. Junior high only exacerbated the issue. By high school, and debutante age, my mother had been done with me.

Yet, she sat across from me at the dining table with a cup of coffee in her hands and a soft countenance. She sipped her coffee and waited patiently for me to say something. I looked down at my scrambled eggs, and thought about how I hadn't gotten out a single word in those last few seconds in Thedas. How I'd reached out to my friends only to have my fingers go through them.

Because they weren't real and I was.

"No," I lied and shoveled the eggs onto a slice of toasted focaccia bread before cramming it in my mouth.

My mother didn't say anything. She sat there sipping her coffee without a word otherwise. I don't know if she believed me.

I don't care if she believed me.

It hurt to think about it. Physically I mean. Not just emotionally. The more I leaned toward missing my friends, my boyfriend, my best friends, going to the bakery every morning - the worse my headaches got. The same vice like migraines that used to floor me whenever blood magic was around back in Thedas.

I stopped thinking about them and sunk myself into the real world.

Back to my search for food. Something quick, easy and wouldn't crash me later from lack of sugar. My sister's junk food was more on the healthy side than on the actual junk side, but it worked out in my favor. I had a whole list of things to pack in my bags for a trip back to Thedas. Forget the generic granola bars that I had to eat four of to feel full. Give me oatmeal squares stuffed with fruit and a glass of milk. I could go for hours.

That initial hike to Sky Reach was going to be a bitch. Bringing snacks that had a two year shelf life would get everyone's spirits up. And keep everyone's calorie count high enough to keep them moving in the snow.

How to get everything to Thedas was the real problem.

Oatmeal, cinnamon, dried blueberries and walnuts with buttered whole wheat toast on the side. One large glass of milk in hand and my other stacked with food and I was taking the stairs back to my room.

Time to save an empress.

In the middle of figuring out which Inquisition Table quests to send troops out on, my sister poked her head into my room. "I'm going to the office to sign the new hire paperwork. I should be home in an hour, maybe an hour and a half. Will you be okay on your own?"

Without looking up from the open Dragon Age Wiki page, "Yep."

"Okay. Brandon said he might stop by, will you get the door?"

Brandon Lee, who admitted he was mildly freaked out by the fact I could catch a pickpocket mid-lift, hadn't called me in over a week. Emma hadn't spoken to me in nearly two weeks after the purse snatcher incident. My sister, while she didn't say it to my face, spoke to my parents about a way to force me into seeing a therapist about my time away.

That's what they call it, my small group of friends and family. They call it 'time away' or 'Elyria's time away' and 'Elyria's time away from us.'

My sister is also suspicious. She saw the solar chargers sitting in the sun on my windowsill. I know she saw the two bags arrive from Amazon. I think when I was in the shower a few days ago she went through my internet history. I know she thinks I'm leaving again.

She's right, but I won't be leaving until I've played Inquisition a few times, and memorized enough information from the Wiki to get by in game. I will need to be a useful party member to the Inquisitor, and not one who primarily gets left at Haven or Skyreach like I have so frequently with Sera and Cole. I like them both, but as I enjoy playing a rogue, I don't really need either of them. Hopefully it will be more like when I was in Origins versus DA2, where the party was larger than that on screen.

Speaking of playing a rogue...I hit escape and saved the game before exiting out completely. It occurred to me just after helping Iron Bull with his personal quest that I was letting myself get lax. Losing muscle tone and muscle memory when I was planning to go back to the kind of life I lived in Thedas. I needed to look for a mixed martial arts class and join a gym, if only temporarily.

I moved the search to the Kindle and moved downstairs to make lunch while I went over the options. So. Many. Options. By the time Brandon's Uber was dropping him off, I'd narrowed down my choices to a studio about a ten minute walk from my sister's home and a dojo a few subway stops away.

Brandon came in calling out, "Darling, I brought Chipotle."

Ooo, calories. "With chips?"

He held up a secondary brown bag, "Of course."

"You're the best, thank you."

"Extra guac, double corn salsa." He pulled the wrapped burrito from the bag and held it out to me.

I was tearing into it seconds later while he was still peeling up the cover to his bowl. "Slow poke," I said around a mouth full of meat and cheese.

"Glutton," he replied and set two paper napkins on his lap.

I shrugged and continued to devour. "I'm joining a gym."

"Why? You're jacked already."

After setting down my burrito, I lifted my shirt and flexed my stomach. "These muscles don't just appear on their own. I've got to keep them well fed and trained properly."

"Damn girl, why can't I find a man like that?"

"Your one is out there, you'll find him."

"Please, your mouth to god's ears."

My burrito was gone before his bowl even had a dent in the contents.

He eyed me. "Damn girl, you'd think you were starving."

"I've never starved." We came close once. After burying the King. We stupidly hadn't resupplied on the way to Denerim from Ostagar, and got caught in a snowstorm that lasted a full three days. We made it to the Brecilian Forest with three stale pieces of hard tack between the lot of us.

I still remember how cold I was when the Dalish let us bunk down with them for a few days. The elves seemed to enjoy the cold, revel in it even. We silly humans and our silly city elf. I remembered Zevran attempting to cuddle up to Wynne and her smacking him in the back with her staff.

Brandon's well manicured hand move in front of my face. "Earth to Elyria."

I blinked, "What?"

"You went somewhere for a minute. Want to talk about it?"

No. "What gym do you go to?"

His plastic fork slid into his food, followed by a quick, short sigh. "You can't always change the subject."

"I don't want to talk about my life. What gym do you go to?"

"Your life or your time away?"

"My time away is my life Brandon and I don't want to talk about."

"You're going to have to eventually."

"No, I really won't."

He shook his head slowly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Elyria…"

"What gym do you go to?" I repeated evenly.

"Planet Fitness, I get hit on less and it costs ten a month."

I hit the button on the side to wake my kindle up and swiped a finger across the screen to unlock it. "Sounds good to me."

**July 4, 2018**

"Aren't you sick of playing that game?" Emma asked while she waited for me to figure out which pair of shorts would keep me warmer. She arrived ten seconds after I realized she was supposed to be picking me up for Brandon's Hamptons party.

Which was about five minutes ago.

"Plaid bermudas or these jean ones from Old Navy?" I asked sticking both pairs out of the closet, one in each hand.

"Neither, wear a skirt." She replied. "Weren't you playing with a dwarf the last time?"

"Started over once I finished the last campaign."

"Why?"

"Dragon Age games are all replayable. You know that."

"I know, but why right after you finished?"

Because I need to memorize as much as I can. "I played Dead in Bermuda for nearly a month!" I hadn't. I played it for about a week, got bored and made a dwarf inquisitor.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Brandon said he expects you to dress to the nines for the party."

Brandon was fooling himself. A few minutes later I stepped out of my closet in black bermuda shorts, a v-neck ocean blue t-shirt with a white tank top underneath, and black Vans.

"When did you oil slick your hair?" Emma asked looking up from her phone.

"A couple of days ago. I wanted a change." I'd also chopped off nearly all of the length I'd grown out in Thedas. The woman cutting my hair took pictures of how long it had gotten with my phone for me before she began cutting. I was happy not to have to use half a bottle of shampoo every time I washed it. Five years is a long, long time not to cut your hair. It hung around my face in layered, feathered dark blue, dark green and purple waves.

Emma smiled at me, a warm, happy smile. "I really am glad that you're home."

"Ready?"

"Mascara? Eyeliner?" She looked down at my shoes, "Could you try kitten heels at least?"

"Don't own any, couldn't do a wing if I tried and don't own any." I grabbed a light jacket from my closet and slid the mirrored door closed. "Ready?"

"Brandon is going to throw a fit. He invited straight guys for you."

Maybe I should have mentioned my last boyfriend was openly bisexual. The flirty, almost invitation jokes he'd made to freak Alistair out on the ship had lead to my bestie turning multiple shades of pink, red and mauve. We caught a subway train to Jamaica, and from there the LIRR out to Westhampton. Brandon's new boy toy owned a small beach house, and was hosting a small Fourth of July party.

Small as in around fifty people.

On the train ride out Emma talked about going back to school, becoming a Physician's Assistant or Nurse Practitioner. She avoided talking about the lack of a ring on her finger and the absence of her fiance. Her Facebook status changed three days ago. From 'Engaged' to 'Complicated.' The chain texts from Brandon and Kerry asking what happened, did someone know had blown up my phone for nearly all three days.

I believed today was her first social outing since it happened. Sands the boy-man who pursued her for nearly fifteen years because he was so in love with her. So in love he asked her to marry him three times in the last fifteen years. Once right after graduating high school, two minutes after she announced she was going to school update. Once right in the middle of summer break between sophomore and junior year. That had been thirty minutes after she declined the transfer to another college closer to the city for her family. The final time she said yes,

"If you want me to beat the life out of him, all you have to do is ask." I said as we hit a lull in the chatter on the train. Several people turned their heads. I kept a small smile on my face. Let them think I'm joking.

She gave me a strained smile, tight around the edges that didn't reach her eyes. "That wouldn't change things."

"Maybe not, but it would be satisfying to see bruises on his face mirror the bruises on your heart."

Her eyes began watering. "He said he didn't know if he ever loved me."

"What limb would you like me to break, and don't say his neck please. That doesn't work like it does in the movies. Unless you'd like the full Linda Blair treatment."

She snorted, wiping at her eyes. "Did I mess up my eye shadow?"

The purple and black looked a little smeared, but nothing a little more makeup couldn't fix. "We can fix it at the party."

"He's fighting me for the condo. Can you believe that? Both our names are on it. It was supposed to be where we started our family. He wants to keep it so he can move on with his life in it."

"And you?"

"I want to sell it, split the money and move on with _my_ life."

I won't say what I did. That might get me arrested.

I will say that when the following week ended, the boy-man told Emma to sell the condo and write him a check for his half. A few weeks later Emma found out from a mutual friend he took a job up in Maine, and moved out of state. Emma sold the condo, and took Viola's invitation to move into our brother Sebastian's old room.

**September 6, 2018**

When I decided to leave in the fall back in May it felt like I had so much time to get everything done. Now I was staring at the red circle around October 5th, and thinking about pushing back a few days. Maybe after Thanksgiving. No, because then would come Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's day, and a whole year of other reasons why. If I was going back to Thedas, I'd have to get my shit together.

October was the perfect month, and going early in the month gave me time before the snow started hitting the ground in Ferelden and Orlais. I had literal boxes of prepackaged food ready to go, instant oatmeal that only required hot milk or hot water. Dried fruits and nuts. I'd squirreled away a lot of provisions for the proverbial winter.

I bought a bug out bag and a heavy waterproof tarp satchel. The bug out bag had already been loaded with two sets of thermals, a pair of faux-fur boots that went up my calves which promised to be good in up to negative four degree weather, inserts to make them comfortable to walk in, a sweater, sweatshirt, a medium weight jacket, two large solar charges (again, thank you Amazon), faux-fur lined leather gloves, a bottle of peroxide, a small tub of vaseline, a quad pack of toothbrushes, a quad pack of toothpaste, and large pack of baby wipes.

All the things I wished I had before and then some.

I was still debating buying a sleeping bag. Who knew where I'd come through or when I'd come through. I could appear right where I left off in Denerim or appear at Flemeth's hut back in the Wilds. I'd have to slog a lot of stuff with me already. A sleeping bag wasn't currently a necessity.

The front door opened downstairs, Emma's voice calling, "Anyone home?"

"Upstairs," I yelled in return. She reached the landing as I was ticking things off on my supply list. Her eyes went over the stuff surrounding me, the food, the bags, and her face fell. "Where are you going?"

"Going to hike and clear my head."I lied. "Up by the old cabin where Cody and I used to go."

Her entire frame visibly relaxed. "That place he detoxed in, right?"

"The same." Twenty four packets of oatmeal bars in four varieties. Check. Twenty four packets of Nature Valley, twelve of the peanut, twelve of the oat and honey. Check. "I'm going to be up there a while. Probably a few weeks, maybe until winter."

"Getting back to nature and all that." She said as she crossed her legs and dropped down in front of me. "Is that what you're telling everyone?"

I didn't look up from counting the instant oatmeal. "That's what I'm doing, so that's what I'm telling everyone."

"Or you're going back to where ever you were while you were away, and you're prepping for the journey back."

I stopped mid-count on the baby wipe packets. "Emma…"

"I was there in the room with you Ellie. I know what I saw. You were transparent in my lap. I don't care what my therapist says. I felt the pressure of your body on my knees lighten, then dissipate. You faded out of the world and I know that sounds crazy, but that's what happened. I kept trying to figure out where you went, and I couldn't. I had this crazy idea that you faded out of reality, but physics dictates all energy remains no matter where it goes. So where did you go Ellie and are you going back?"

Again, for the unknownth time, I felt guilty about that last day in New York even if I had no control over it. Someone doing blood magic in the world of Thedas had managed to power up enough to break the barrier between their world and our reality. How many people in Tevinter died for the insane bastard who did it? How many people died to bring me across to the Wilds outside Ostagar?

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you where I was." I told her after several moments of silence. "You'd go to my sister, she would have me locked up on grounds of insanity."

"You were somewhere Ellie. People don't just disappear into thin air."  
"I was somewhere, but you won't believe me."

"Oh really? Try me. I'm pretty open about these things. I did a lot of research after you were gone. I've heard of things, read testimonials, I believe you were somewhere else."

My sore leg muscles (yesterday was leg day at the gym) protested when I got up out of my cross legged position on the floor. I went to my door, closed it, locked it and then moved to the computer to turn on some music. Next I went to my window and closed it, flipping on the air conditioner to add white noise into the mix as well as to prevent us from overheating. Then I returned to my position on the floor.

"I'm going to tell you everything, but if you don't believe me, you can't go to my sister. I don't want someone declaring me insane for this."

"I won't tell Vi. I promise."

Then I told my best friend about the last few years of my life.

I told her everything.

**October 1, 2018**

"Are you sure I can't change your minds?" Viola asked while Emma and I began to load up the car for our trip to the cabin. That's right. _Our_ trip to the cabin. "You're going to miss Halloween in the city! I throw a great Halloween party. Slasher movies, chocolate, pizza and popcorn."

Emma laughed. "I'm not sitting through you hiding behind a pillow every time someone opens a vein."

"The fake blood is a little much for me." I told my sister as I put the last bag into the back seat. "Besides, what's better than spooky woods and a fireplace with scary stories?"

My sister's shoulders fell. "I wish you guys would have asked me, I could have taken time off."

"You started working for the ACLU a few months ago, there is no way in hell they're going to let you take a month off. I'm lucky I even got two weeks." Emma told my sister while they hugged goodbye. "See you in a couple of weeks. We can go apartment hunting."

By nine thirty we were on the road headed up to the cabin. The supplies I'd gathered were tripled to stock the cabin and our packs. That's right, our packs. Emma wanted to see Thedas. I'd warned her that I couldn't be one hundred percent certain she'd come through with me.

"So, when you say Alistair is hot…" Emma asked aloud while waiting in the line on the Verrazano to get out of Manhattan.

"That's my best friend you're talking about harlot."

"I'm your best friend. Wouldn't it make sense that your two best friends become _good _friends?"

"If you break his heart, I'll break your face."

"What if he breaks mine?"

"Not going to happen. He's one of those I'll love you forever types."

Her face went soft, then sad. "Maybe not. What's Cullen like now?"

"I told you to play as much as you could before we left."

"I did!"

"For how long?"

"Four or five hours."

"For how many days?"

"A week maybe?"

"You didn't even make it to Skyhold, did you?"

"I did. I just made it Skyhold."

"Oh my god." I wiped one hand over my face. "I told you, you need to be useful if you can't fight."

"I am an experienced nurse! I will be so useful they'll be sick of how useful I will be! Do you know how many nights I've been in the ER?"

I wondered if she would clash with the doctor who didn't believe in using magic to heal wounds. "Okay, drill time. Which potions have healing properties?"

Emma groaned and put her head on the steering wheel. "I'm going to regret wanting to go to Thedas at this rate."

"Oh honey, well before that. Trust me. I was regretting it the first time I saw darkspawn."

With traffic we ended up having to stop at the Cracker Barrel in Fishkill for lunch. Emma eyed the menu critically. "Cobb Salad?"

"Carbs. Pasta preferably."

"We'll fall asleep on the way to the cabin!"

"You won't be eating carbs after thursday unless they're potatoes, oatmeal or fried chicken or fish."

"No pasta?"

"Hasn't been discovered yet."

"Bread though, right?"

"Oh yeah, usually stale for your soup bowl. Hardtack is fun to eat too."

Her face fell. "What did you eat?"

"Why do you think I was so thin?"

The waitress took that moment to move in. "Hello ladies, welcome to Cracker Barrel. I'm Jenny, I'll be your waitress. Can I start you two off with anything to drink?"

"Iced tea for me, unsweetened." I said, watching Emma recalculate actually wanting to see Thedas herself. "You Em?"

"Um...Coke or Pepsi please."

"And are you two ready to order?"

"I am, you Em?"

"Um...I think so."

"Okay ladies, when you're ready."

"The fried chicken with dumplings. The first side will be mac and cheese, the other applesauce."

"And you honey?" Jenny asked pleasantly.

Emma stared at the menu a moment longer then said, "The reuben sandwich, french fries. I'll take the same sides."

Jenny smiled at us both. "Okay, coming right up."

We made it to the cabin about an hour and a half later. Emma rubbed her stomach once again and grumbled. "I ate too much."

"Trust me, you're going to wish for that problem on the trudge from the ruins of Haven to Skyhold."

"Maybe, because you know where to go and who to go to, you can circumvent the Templars or Mages from joining the dark side."

"There's only one inquisitor. You need them to fend off some of the attacks. I can't be sure that trying to save both sides will work."

"But you could try, right?"

She's right. We could.

**October 5, 2018**

The day to leave came. I got up first, because Emma was still in somewhat of a food coma from last night. These last few days I had been loading up on calories to burn later. If she made it to Thedas with me, and I do mean _if_, she would need the little bit of extra fat.

Emma woke up a few minutes before I finished making the oatmeal. She shuffled into the kitchen in socks, thick sleeping pants and a sweatshirt. "That smells good. Cinnamon and what else?"

"Walnuts, dried raisins, and cranberries. We need to finish the perishables today if we're leaving."

She grabbed the four slices of toast from small toaster oven. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"One hundred percent."

"Not one fifty?"

"One thousand percent."

"Over nine thousand!"

"Oh my god. If you start quoting Dragonball Z, I will leave you here."

We ate breakfast with me drilling her about the first few days in Thedas and what they might entail. Where to go, where to meet if we were to be separated. Around eight thirty we we began gathering up our stuff, her bags and mine, rolling up our sleeping bags (that were actually a good idea), and double checking our supplies.

"Sitting?" She asked as I had her pull on the straps of the bags and sit down across from me.

"It will hurt less when you hit the ground there."

"Ominous. So how does this work?"

"You have to believe that that world is real. That you could live in it, interact with the people, be part of their lives." The incredulous look she gave me spoke volumes. "I spent years there Emma. Probably will spend several more. I remember walking down the shore of a lake, the warmth of the Thedas sun on my face, fog rolling in off the sea in the spring, the snowy hills outside Kirkwall..."

The headache hit me like a freight train. I felt myself letting go of Emma and falling backwards. The floor I landed on was absolutely not the hardwood of the cabin. It was solid, cold stone. My ass hurt, my head hurt and something hard had dented my back. Great, my stuff didn't come through. God damn it.

I got up slowly, looking around as I did. A vague sense of deja vu hit me. I knew this place. How did I know this place? This was…this was the old temple to Andraste wasn't it? The one at the base of the mountain. It looked better, nicer than the last time I'd been there. Someone had gone ahead and repaired a lot of what had been falling apart. How did I end up in the old temple?

A dark, heavy voice came from a doorway at the end of the hall. "Prepare the sacrifice."

A quick glance around proved not a single person was there.

Except me.

_Shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The beginning of the story is slightly different than the opening to the game for storytelling purposes.

Back in Black - AC/DC

Big Data - Dangerous

Danny Elfman - The Little Things

Queen - Under Pressure

Ashley Johnson/Sam Riegel - Mighty Nein Intro

Fatboy Slim - Weapon of Choice

Demi Lovato - Confident

* * *

Chapter 2:

Waking up on a cold stone floor with straw poking into all sorts of uncomfortable places is unpleasant at worst. If you add in the mild post migraine headache, the soreness and stiffness from being passed out in such an uncomfortable spot, it gets a little worse. The pins and needles were everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. My left hand especially felt like there were sharp little spikes prodding at my bones and muscles.

Taking a moment to look around yielded three things, one I was a prisoner, two, the guards had realized I was no longer down and out and three, the shackles on my hands were effing tight.

"Tell Lady Cassandra that the prisoner is awake." The left guard said to the right guard. While he took off, the other opened the cell and came in to pull me out. "You behave yourself."

Again my left hand tingled in a truly unpleasant way. More pins, more needles that seemed to crawl themselves up into both the ulna and radial bones only to peak at my elbow and subside with a few quick throbs. The guard pushed me down into a kneeling position in the center of the room. A handful of seconds later the other guard returned with two others. They took up spots at the four corners around me, their swords drawn.

Again my left hand tingled, this time followed by an arm jerking tweak in my elbow and lower humerus. It felt like fire ants were marching in time up my _bones_, inside my flesh, nibbling away as they went. The thin, pale green crack that seemed to follow the middle line of my left palm seemed innocuous aside from the uncomfortable, somewhat painful spikes that were coming sporadically.

I probably would have made a lame ass Doctor Who reference if the mind numbing pain hadn't robbed me of my senses temporarily.

The door opened again, Cassandra and Leliana coming through. In near unison the guards put their swords away.

Cassandra's boot heels tapped as she crossed the floor, where Leliana was nearly silent in her walk toward me. Would she recognize me? It had been more than ten years, and my head was bowed because I'd been looking at the mark on my hand.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." Cassandra's voice was a combination of distress, worry and overall anger. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." She stood in front of me, arms crossed, "Except for you."

I shook my head. "Why on earth would you think that the only survivor did it? Logically, with that level of destruction, even the person who perpetrated the crime would have gone up in flames too."

Leliana moved in, two fingers under my chin forcing my face up. She looked older, and yet the same. I knew those eyes, those pretty eyes that I harbored so much jealousy over so many years ago. Her milky fair skin with freckles now sported new fine lines at the corners of her eyes, creases in her forehead and around her mouth. But my old friend was still there, plain as day. "Elyria?"

I tried to smile at her, but the mark spiked up my arm again. With each one, it got higher. Now it was deep in my humerus. Sooner or later it would reach my shoulder, then my back. Possibly my heart. Sweet Andraste, Spaghetti monster and every other god listening...this could kill me.

I needed to be ready to drop back into reality.

I let out a small shriek of pain in Leliana's face. Her expression faltered. "She did not do this."

"Explain this," Cassandra grabbed my shackled left arm and lifted it, thereby lifting my right arm too.

"Elyria Duke is not on either side of the war. She's from…" her voice trailed off for the briefest of moments. "From elsewhere."

"Elyria Duke…" Cassandra's voice was a thoughtful hum. "The dwarf spoke of an Elyria."

"Do you know what happened?" Leiliana asked me, "Do you remember anything Elyria?"

I knew what happened, I just lived it. But the spot where the Divine should have been was fuzzy. Otherwise everything else was crystal clear. For the record, those spiders in the fade are truly **terrifying** and I remembered _everything_. "Vaguely. I heard a man's voice, it was deep, and loud. Much too loud to be normal. He was saying something about a sacrifice. Then darkness, and a woman in the dark. She was so bright, brighter than anything I'd ever seen and I grabbed her hand…" I lifted my left hand up a little, and the shackles clanked as I did. "After that, waking up here."

They shared a look quietly, then Cassandra said, "Leiliana, go to the forward camp. I will take her to the rift."

My old friend spared me a look, almost sympathetic, before leaving.

"What happened?" I asked Cassandra as she pulled me to my feet.

She unlocked the manacles, and bound my hands with rope instead. "It will be easier to show you." She lead me out of the dungeon below the temple in Haven. Along the way my shackles were removed and replaced with rope binding my hands together tightly.

I had to shield my eyes for a moment when we exited the temple. As ugly, and heart stopping awe inducing as the breach looks on a screen, in real life - it was terrifying. And it **roared**. A steady rumble that seemed to reverberate in my hand, spreading its way up my arm, dissipating as it went.

"We call it the Breach. It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."

I moved next to her, flexing my hand, expecting the next shock to drop me as it did all of the inquisitors I'd played previously. "An explosion can't rip open the veil between worlds."

"This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world."

From our vantage point, we couldn't actually see the rift grow. But I sure a shit felt it. This one felt like a frying pan smacking my palm, another whacking my elbow, and this time it went all the way into the joint of my shoulder. It dropped me, letting loose a keening cry from my lips.

She crouched in front of me. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads...and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn't much time."

"You," I snarled through clenched teeth, "cannot possibly believe I did this." The pain began to ebb off, slowly, like it was leeching itself from my bones to return to the mark on my hand. I pushed up on one knee, then to my feet. "I fought next to Leiliana during the blight. I was at Hawke's side until I had to return home. Why, why would you ever believe that I would do that," I pointed my marked hand at the Breach.

"Someone is responsible and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way."

"Of course I'll help, that was never in question."

Cassandra's head bobbed, and we were moving again.

Someone spat at me. They missed, but it landed just short of where I was. The people were scowling, crossing their arms and judging me amongst themselves.

"They have decided your guilt. They need it." Cassandra told me as she led me onward. "The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between the mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."

The soldiers gave me both gave me equally scathing glances before they opened the doors at the edge of town. Slow falling flurries blew around us as she went on. "We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed."

Cassandra pulled the dagger and for a moment, my heart did jump in my chest even though I knew already she wasn't going to harm me. "There will be a trial." She met my gaze in a steady, almost reassuring way. "I can promise no more." Then the Seeker cut the ropes binding my hands. "Come, it isn't far."

I rubbed my wrists. The manacles had been uncomfortable, but those ropes had given me a little bit of rope burn. "Where are we going?"

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach."

I'd seen casualties before. I'd been in a war before. I'd seen corpses and wounded and people scared for their lives before. This, though, this was more than that. The fear in the air was permeable. The faint scent of the dead bodies and blood mixed in with the cold blasts of wind hitting the bridge. At the end of the bridge the soldiers looked exhausted guarding the gate.

"Open the gate! We are headed into the valley!" Cassandra told them.

They pulled open the gate for us, a polite nod at her, watching me warily.

There were more dead and more soldiers on the way up the hill. Agony shot up every nerve ending in my arm with the next shockwave from the mark.

Cassandra, looking almost concerned, crouched in front of me. "The pulses are coming faster now." One hand on my shoulder and the other on my opposite elbow, she helped me into a kneeling position. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face."

The mark flared bright green, while the roar of the rift echoed in my _bones_. "It's a damn miracle I survived getting this thing in the first place," I muttered shaking my hand to attempt to alleviate the pulsing pressure of pain.

"I am told," Cassandra told me, looking a little over her shoulder at me, "that you stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you'll see soon enough."

If I'd had more of a presence of mind, I might have analyzed the slight change in her script. Instead I kept moving toward the next bridge. Wait, isn't this the one that-

A meteorite of black, green and hellfire slammed down into the brickwork three seconds after Cassandra and I were half-way across. The blast took out the soldiers on the other end of the bridge, and sent me and Cassandra tumbling down with the wreckage. For the briefest of moments, I think I lost consciousness because the next moment I heard Cassandra yelling at me.

"Stay behind me!"

Inches from my face the warning signs of a shade bubbled in a green-gray-black puddle of nasty. Shaking my head to clear it, I cast around for the weapons. There, by the crate. A few of them had spilled out of the crate, including - thank you sweet Maker - a short sword and and a dagger. The ice was slippery under my winter boots, the snow and dirt soaked parts of my jeans clung uncomfortably. I reached, stretching across the ice and snared the short sword. With a quick swipe of the tip, I knocked the dagger closer.

The spikes of green and black shot up from the ground as I grabbed the dagger. Half a heartbeat later I was on my feet and the shade, as ugly and as angry as I remembered them to be, looked at me with one inhuman eye from under its hood.

Without thinking about it I dropped into a fighting stance, short sword slighting above my head, dagger posed mid-torso, both blades flat side out. "Try it," I snarled.

Cassandra chose that most opportune time to taunt. The shade turned and went after her instead of me. Oh. Goodie.

One, two, three steps and I slammed the dagger into the area by where its kidneys might have been located if it were human. The short sword went to its neck while it howled in inhuman pain from the dagger draining black essence from its body. The shade's cry of pain cut short as the head slid from its shoulders and dissolved into nothingness.

Cassandra slammed her shield into the other one, once, twice. It was clawing at her, or at least trying to. She hit it once more, this time knocking back just a step. That was all she needed to drive her sword into its chest. That shade too dissolved.

I knew she was a badass, but no, really, that was impressive for someone only a few inches taller than me, and heavier by maybe a pound or two. Warrior tanks man, holy shit. "That was seriously impressive."

She turned on me, saw my weapons and raised her sword. "Drop your weapons. _Now_."

And I think I'm kind of scared of her. "Are you sure you're up to protecting me the entire way to wherever we're headed?" I asked as I carefully placed the weapons on the ice at our feet. "I'm pretty good with these."

"Give me one reason to trust you," she demanded, tipping her chin at me as I straightened up.

When in doubt, the honest truth serves pretty well, "I don't want to die."

She paused, watching me, then Cassandra withdrew her blade. "You're right." She sheathed it on her hip. "I cannot protect you, and I cannot ask you to be defenseless. I should remember, you came willingly."

Again with that tiny, tiny script change. Ripples in the water and I haven't even been here a day. Reminder to self, don't let your hubris get in the way of the story. Don't go there.

While I was busy thinking, Cassandra had fished a few vials out of her side pouch. "Take these potions. Maker knows what we will face."

"No where to put them," I told her and patted my heavy dark gray and violet sweater and jeans for proof.

One of her dark eyebrows cocked at me. Business like, with a quick stride she crossed the distance from where we killed the shades to the crates and the one dead soldier. She rolled the soldier over, striped him of his pack, and helm, then returned to me. "Here. I have trained to protect myself. If what Varric tells me is true, you are not so adept."

Don't snort. No. Do. Not. Snort. She wasn't trying to be rude. I kind of wanted to clap back though. Instead I bit the side of my cheek until I tasted copper. "Thank you." I used the inside of my wrist of my sweater to clean off the smear of blood on the inside of the helm and pulled it on.

"Where are the rest of your soldiers?"I ask sparing a glance at the poor dead soldier she stripped of a helm and pack.

"At the forward camp," she told me as she nodded at the distance, "or fighting. We are on our own for now."

The pack went around my waist and the vials of healing potion went into it. Other stuff rattled around in there. Wonderful, I was once again the owner of a literal Mary Poppins fanny pack. "Let's go before this thing gives me a heart attack."

She nodded at me and we began the trek along the river toward the forward camp. We turned once we reached the boulders, the snow crunched under our feet as we climbed to the top of the small hill. Below us, on the other side of the frozen river, were more shades.

The mark on my hand flared sending a jolt into my shoulder, collarbone and shoulder blade. It wasn't as mind numbingly awful as the last one, but they all _hurt_. They hurt so goddamn much that it overwhelmed my senses for a good second.

I missed what Cassandra said next as she passed me to run down the hill. The shades met her immediately. I slid down the side of the hill and hit the one closest to me. We made quick work of them and moved on toward the next part of the river, and the stairs.

More shades and wraiths met us. The wraith fired weak bolts of green energy at us from the hill. This was a marathon, not a race. My arms, despite working out nearly every day for months before leaving, were getting sore from that much fighting. We were on the next part of the river when another wraith fired off at us.

Cassandra reacted quickly, taunting everything and running into the fray shield first. No question. She _is_ a serious badass.

We were at the long stairway upward when she finally spoke to me again. "We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting."

I chuckled and it sounded dark, even to me. My arms, shoulders and thighs were not enjoying this. Thankfully my core and lungs held up against the punishment of run, fight, run, fight, run some more in the icy air. Cassandra was slightly pink faced as well, she rolled her shoulders as we climb the stairs to the top of the next hill.

The bridge up there was destroyed too, and god it was warmer up there. The fires on the bridge and to the left of the stairs must have been why. I breathed in smelling dead things, burning and wood smoke. From here I could see the fighting. There was Varric with Bianca.

My heart jumped into my throat. For me it had only been a few months since I'd seen him. For him its been **years**. I double checked my helm, making sure it was securely over my face and charged toward danger.

The wraith about to fire into Solas' back, dissipated a breath after my short sword sliced diagonally through its body. Shoulder to waist. Cassandra barreled forward, slamming against a slightly larger than average shade. There were arrows flying from Bianca in a rapid, deadly succession. I almost forgot how good he was with that crossbow.

Solas on the other hand was a blur of movement with his staff. He trapped and froze a shade solid, then shattered it with another blast. The lone soldier fighting with them looked relieved to see us, and began to bludgeon the shade he'd been fending off with a heavy looking mace.

The fight only took a few more moments. We had the briefest of seconds all of us breathing hard, looking around for the next threat.

"Quickly, before more come through!"

Solas grabbed my arm by the wrist and lifted my hand, pointing at the rift. With the stream of green energy leaving the mark, so went the pain. The absolute relief stole my breath. _Oh thank god_. It had taken less than an hour for us to get here, but it felt like the pain would never be gone. I breathed out and for the very first time since I woke up, the mark had gone back to being a pins and needles itch that I could ignore.

The rift closed in a nearly audible _pop_.

"Next time," I said to him, extracting my arm from his grasp, "ask before you decide to manhandle."

"I meant no offence." There's that voice. The voice of Ianto Jones.

Shaking my hand out, "You just closed the rift with this thing."

"_I_ did nothing. The credit is yours." And if I didn't know he was lying through his goddamn teeth, I'd actually believe him. He came off so genuine and sincere.

Had to be the accent. Or my love of Ianto blinded me to any deception. I cried my eyes out when his voice actor died in Torchwood. Ianto died a hero and no one, not on Earth and not in Thedas will ever be able to convince me otherwise.

"Credit shmedit," I said holding up my hand. "This thing closes little rifts, good chance it closes the big one, right?"

"Possibly. Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."

Cassandra, instead of going through her line, said, "Then we should move on to the forward camp. The breach grows with every moment."

Solas looked me up and down, a mask of perfect banality on his face. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know!" Varric's voice makes my nerves stutter in anxiety. "Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." He headed toward me and my stomach bursts into nervous butterflies. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and," he winked at Cassandra who in turn scowled at him, "occasionally unwelcome tag along."

Deep breath girl. Now or never. I pulled the helm covering my face off, "The name's Elyria, but you used to call me Ellie."


	3. Chapter 3

Video Killed the Radio Star - Buggles

Internet Killed the Video Star - The Limousines

The Man Who Sold the World - Nirvana

Southside - Moby

Salty Sweet - MS MR

Come as you Are - Nirvana

Under Pressure - Queen & David Bowie

* * *

Chapter 3:

Varric stared at me for a good five solid seconds, then he leveled Bianca at me and said, "Prove it. Prove you're Elyria."

I didn't dare move a muscle. Varric is, was and will always be insanely good with that thing. He could split hairs on a flea. "You tried out a bunch of nicknames on me before settling on Ellie."

His eyes narrowed, "Name one."

"Pumpkin. I asked you if you were calling me short, fat and orange."

He visibly relaxed, easing up on Bianca and moving her to his back. "Andraste's knickers! I could have shot you!"

"Could have, but didn't. Nice language by the way. There are templars here, you know. Do I get a hug?"

"No. Handshake?"

"We've been friends for nearly a decade and you want me to shake your hand? Seriously? Bro hug, at least."

"What on the Maker's green grass is a bro hug?"

I grinned at him and went for it. Seconds later, while he was awkwardly trying to push me away, "I said no hugs."

"Bro hugs are not hugs."

"Are you two quite finished?" Cassandra's impatience bled through our mildly happy reunion.

Still crouched a bit to look him in the eye. "Want to save the world again shortstop?"

"With you?" Varric repositioned Bianca into his hands with a grin and a wink. "Always."

"Absolutely not," Cassandra stepped up nearly between us, "Your help is appreciated Varric, but…"

His expression was somewhere between trying not to make snide remarks, and this chick for real? "Have you been in the valley lately Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore." Then he smiled that charming, Varric signature smile. "You _need_ me."

In response, she made a disgusted noise and threw her hands up.

Solas nodded his head at me, taking the opportunity. "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you live."

Sure you are. You're the guy who brought this thing into the world.

"He means," Varric said, "'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"

I flexed my hand. "Thank you."

Solas gave me the briefest flash of a smile. "Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process." He turned his attention to Cassandra who was still, at least a little bit, annoyed with Varric's nonchalance. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen." He motioned to me. "Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

_My ass you _ _liar_ _._

With one more annoyed glance at Varric, the Seeker was back to business. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly."

"Well, Bianca's excited!"

I snorted. "You still talk about her in third person?"

He almost pouted at me. "She's a sensitive woman."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. She pointed with her sword. "This way, down the bank. The road head is blocked."

Solas readied his staff. "We must move quickly.

After disposing of the shades up the hill, and then down the path to dispose of the next round of shades, Varric spoke up again. "Where have you been Ellie?"

"Who is asking my friend or the writer?"

He fired off at a wraith in the distance. It burst like a overfilled water balloon. "I won't dignify that with an answer."

"What did you write in Hawke's book?"

"That you disappeared on the docks," Cassandra inserted before Varric could drum up a protest, "while in full view of your companions."

I made a buzzer sound. "Close, I was bringing up the rear. When did they notice?"

"Alistair told me he made a comment about a harpy on Collins Row. When you didn't say anything, he turned around and you weren't there."

His sister lived on Collins Row. His sister that wasn't really his sister.

"I'm sure_ that _went over well." My reply thick with sarcasm. "Were any of them arrested?"

Varric snorted. "That's the first question you ask?"

"Knowing Fenris, yes."

"So it's true then, you two _were_ together."

I came to a full stop and turned around, gritting my teeth both in anger and from the pain shooting up my arm. "Tell me you didn't publish that."

"He never out right said it. There were hints," Cassandra told me with a pointed look at the dwarf. "Heavily implied hints."

"Varric!"

"What? The sexual tension between you two was thicker than fog on the coast. All I did was wave off your competition. Broody received a lot of female attention after the book was published. Making him look like he was pining for his lost lady was just the way my muses wanted to go."

My chest tightened. "Never mind," I told him, them, "we've got work to do."

We crossed the riverbed after I insisted we check for supplies in the not burning cabin. I know there are supplies and money in the burning cabin, but I'm a person now, not a character on the screen. Fire effing hurts!

As we reached the stairs, a few items heavier from the cabin, the mark flared up. My hand turned bright green for a moment, and the pain, though not as awful as before, thrummed its way up my arm like one long, painful guitar chord. This one reached into my chest, echoing around a couple of my ribs before leeching itself back down into my hand.

Meanwhile, on the outside, I was grimacing and breathing hard. My blood pressure must be in stroke danger territory. The blood rushing in my ears is a warning. This thing has to ease up or I'd die.

"Shit, Ellie, are you alright?"

Through gritted teeth I breathed out and in once more and allowed myself a deep breath. Then, to myself, under my breath, "I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear." I hadn't used the litany against fear since I was a teenager. Not once in the past eight years. But here, now, faced with the imminent horror and agony, it came back crystal clear. Clearer now than it was when Simone Thorne, Marie Baek and Valencia Santiago had me cornered in the bathroom freshman year. "I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path." I flexed my hand, forcing my fingers to curl and uncurl against the mark. "Where the fear has gone there will be nothing."

That was the first time I threw a punch. I taught those nasty little wanna-be-alpha bitches not to mess with me. "Only I will remain."

"We must hurry," Solas spoke almost sympathetically, "my magic cannot stop the mark from growing further. For your sake, I suggest we hurry."

"Lay on Macduff," I said and we began climbing the stairs.

"So…" Varric began, "_are_ you innocent."

"As virgin snow."

He laughed, slapping his thigh. "See where telling the truth gets you? Should have spun a story."

Cassandra made a sound of irritation. "That's what_ you_ would have done."

He scoffed in response. "It's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution."

We crossed to the next set of stairs, steeper, narrower. There were outcroppings of boulders and a hell of a lot of snow on each of them. My boots were good, they supposedly had plenty of traction, but I could almost feel the thin layers of ice under everything. The tags on them said they'd be good in up to negative ten degree weather.

At the top of the stairs there were more demons. I forgot how big greater shades were. Varric fired off and nailed both wraiths before any of the demons actually saw us. Moments later we'd made quick work of them and we're heading up the hill toward the forward camp. There was snow covered rubble here, solid and broken bricks everywhere. A section of what looks like might have been a section of wall is quietly burning away around twenty feet to our right.

Cassandra sighed. "I hope Leiana made it through all of this."

"She's a resourceful woman, Seeker."

"We will see for ourselves at the forward camp. We're almost there." Solas piped up.

"She's survived worse." I added as we continue up the hill past burning things and dead people. "We fought a dragon up here. She'll live through some demons playing hide and seek."

At the very top of the hill my thighs began a real protest. At the same time, Cassandra called out, "Another rift."

"We must seal it, quickly!"

One of the soldiers called out, "They keep coming! Help us!"

The smaller shades and couple of wraiths were easy enough to get rid of.

"Hurry!" Solas' voice came less than a heartbeat after the last shade was down. "Use the mark!"

As I'd seen my character do on screen a thousand times, as I did earlier, I lifted my hand, palm out to the green swirling rift several feet away. Just as the last one did, this one seemed to connect to the mark without me having to do anything. And, yes, just like the last rift, it drained my pain away like a vampire draining a blood bag.

"The rift is gone! Open the gate!" Cassandra's voice seemed so extra loud.

I realized that was because the blood had stopped rushing and pounding in my ears. Using the mark eased the angry pump of blood. I was willing to bet my pulse had returned to a normal-ish pace.

"Whatever that thing is on your hand, Ellie, you have to admit - it is useful."

"I admit nothing." I told him while watching another meteorite of green slam down somewhere in the distance.

We headed through the gates to the forward camp on the bridge. More soldiers were there, some huddled around a fire trying to stay warm, a few more at a table with stocks of what looked like potion vials, and one guarding a couple of unbound dead bodies. Ominous.

Toward the other side of the bridge we came to Leliana arguing with the thorn in everyone's side.

"Ah, here they come."

Leliana's shoulders drop slightly with the release of tension. She saw me and the slightest hint of relief crossed her face. "You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

He looked exhausted with deep blue-purple bags under his eyes. He still managed to level me a scathing look. "I know who she is." He turned his attention to Cassandra. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

Cassandra in turn bristled. "Order me! You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the chantry!"He shot back in anger.

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know." Leliana told him pointedly, watching him before turning her attention back to us and Cassandra.

"Justinia is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter."

"So we're just going to ignore the big, green, roaring hole in the sky then?" I asked with the snarkiest tone I could muster.

"Roaring? It is not roaring." Leliana shot me a look of confusion and for a moment everyone gave me the 'why you so crazy?' expression.

I turned to Solas and said, "Thundering, rumbling, practically groaning when it shoots out meteorites of demons. You don't hear that?"

"I hear the falling of the meteorites, as you call them, yes. When it expands there is a sound. But now," he turned his head to look at it, brow creasing in what I assumed was concentration. "No, nothing."

"Great, well this," I held up my left hand with the mark across my palm, "is letting me hear it loud and clear. And it is getting louder."

"_You_ brought this on us in the first place!" Roderick snapped at me. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

"We can stop this before it's too late." Cassandra replied evenly.

"How?" The Chancellor demanded. "You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers."

"We must get to the temple. It's the quickest route."

"But not the safest." Leliana added. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

"We lost contact with an entire squadron on that path. It's too risky." Cassandra warned her.

"Listen to me." Said the Chancellor. "Abandon this now, before more lives are lost."

And then, just like on the screen, the breach expanded violently. The mark hit me hard. My whole left arm felt like something ripped upward through every inch of flesh, and as an added bonus, my arm began to tremor by itself. I grabbed my wrist, pointing my palm downward, while my fingers strained involuntarily. By then it had spread across most of the middle of my hand, breaking some of the lines in two.

Wonder what a palm reader would say.

Cassandra waited until I was no longer gritting my teeth or breathing hard from the pain to ask, "How do you think we should proceed?"

"We charge with everyone else." I told them through clenched teeth. "I won't ask men and women to run into battle while I take the other way."

Cassandra nodded at me and went into business mode."Leliana. Bring Everyone left in the valley. Everyone."

Roderick, scowling, leaning on the table to address gathering his spread out papers, "On your head be the consequences, Seeker."

There weren't stairs upward, instead much as I had the last time I climbed to the Temple of Andraste years ago, we took a snow covered path up the side of the mountain. The party might have been different, but the trail was primarily the same. The higher we went, the colder and windier it got. The winds swept loose snow into our paths, some of it depositing on our clothing as we climbed.

Thank whatever god listening I decided to wear my extra thermals under my clothes. The jeans and thermal leggings were a little damp in spots, but otherwise the cold didn't seem to bother me all that much. Still wished my food and supplies had come through.

Eventually, with my legs burning and my lungs feeling like I just ran a marathon, we reached the staging area. More dead bodies, though it looked like a chantry sister was tending to them. A handful of soldiers scattered around, and a weapons table. A sheath caught my eye.

"Anyone using this?" I asked, grabbing up the back sheath for a sword.

One soldier shook his head at me, the other two spared me a glance before returning to sharpening their weapons. I grabbed a lone stiletto off the table, and tested it in one hand. Much better. The balance wasn't quite as off as the one I had been using.

I pulled on the sheath quickly, and slid the sword into it. The stiletto went into the belt holding up the pouch at my side.

"Be wary," Solas told us as we moved up the stairs to the doorway. "Another Fade rift is just there." He pointed with his staff to a darker, smokey area in the distance.

Cassandra leapt down first, then Solas. Varric gave me a 'ugh seriously' look, then moved Bianca onto his back before jumping down too. I took one last look. The destruction was mind boggling. I pulled the helm back on and jumped down as well.

I knew what the temple was supposed to look like, both in game and in person. The reality of the devastation stopped me in my tracks. Oh god. Those poor people.

Loose bricks, burning wood, charred bits of what I prayed wasn't pieces of people were everywhere. _Everywhere._ Sections of wall still standing, slanted from the brutal force of the explosion. Then, as I began moving toward the rift, I saw the bones. Skulls, a rib cage, what I think was a thigh bone, tiny yellow and white bones like something from a hand or a foot. All of them loose and charred on one side. My stomach roiled in response.

Knowing the smaller rift was there spilling demons was the only thing that kept me from tossing whatever was left of the food I ate this morning. Or was it yesterday morning? Either way, the demons had begun to clash with Cassandra. Varric paused fifteen steps ahead of me and began to fire Bianca with deadly precision.

"How many rifts are there?" Varric called out as the last shade went down.

"We must seal it if we are to get past!" Solas responded.

Cassandra nodded at me, "Quickly then! Seal it!"

I raised my hand but it felt like the pull the rift had on me the last two times was stalled. Like it was almost pushing back at me. "It isn't working." I shook my hand and tried again. Then the ground turned green and black. "More coming!"

The terrors rose up like the great unholy monstrosities that they were. This kind of demon I had never seen in person before. Crouched as they were with oddly bent legs, they still towered over us. They must have topped nine feet at least. I remembered that these ones, they could teleport.

Solas froze one immediately, while Cassandra slammed into it with her shield. Meanwhile, Varric and I took the other one. A minute or so later they were gone and I had a series of fresh scratches tearing open the shoulder of my sweater.

This time when I raised my left hand the rift responded instantly. It closed with a resounding pop.

"Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this." Solas told me in what I assume was a congratulatory tone.

"Let's hope it works on the big one." Varric said as he went around picking up bolts that had been left behind when the demons were sent back to the fade.

"Lady Cassandra," a familiar voice called out, coming toward us in a quick lope, "you managed to close the rift? Well done."

"Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner's doing."

Cullen looked at me, but with my helm, he didn't see my face. "Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here."

I pull off my helm and his face went through a series of expressions ranging from 'no way' to 'damn.' "We're all hoping that, but as history has proven, I'm a survivor."

He composed himself. "The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there."

"Then we'd best move quickly." Cassandra said, though her tone had gone from business as usual to a touch curious. "Give us time, Commander."

"Maker watch over you - for all our sakes." Then, with a nod to her, he turned and went to help the soldier hobbling away. Look like someone mellowed out in the last few years.

Ahead of us was another jump down, one I wasn't looking forward to. There would be bodies down there. Human beings frozen in terror and agony, preserved forever as charred husks. Some of them would still be on fire.

I shuddered as we approached the edge. From my vantage point I could see them. A lot of them. Hands up, heads down trying to cover themselves, god these people never had a chance in hell. Some of them were melted into the _floor_.

Angry and sick to my stomach, I jumped down, landing in a crouch to absorb the shock with my knees. I used the helm to cover and put out a fire on what used to be a person a few feet from where I jumped down. They died bowing their head in prayer, hands gripped together before them. "These people will receive last rights later, won't they?"

"As our people recover them." Cassandra told me as we began walking again.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes." Solas observed as we approached the smokiest part of the ruins.

"What's left of it." Varric said.

"I know, I've been here before." I told them. "I fought a dragon somewhere down the road up with the Wardens during the blight." I grabbed a nearly unblemished cloth hat tossed haphazardly on the ground and dusted it off. Fire resistant. "Here, Solas, you need the armor."

He took it wordlessly. "Intact? The enchantment on this must be very strong." He shook it a bit to loosen up any dirt, ash or dust and then donned it, covering his bald head.

We passed more bodies, at least a couple of dozen, all in some stage of destruction. There are more skulls here, loose bones, and bits of what used to be stone and people crunched under our boots. I tried to dredge up some prayers from those years when my parents used to go to church, but only vaguely mishmashed pieces of the Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary came back to me.

"There," Cassandra stopped, pointing her sword at a point near a wall. "That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."

"She was a bright silhouette, a light in the dark. She held her hand out to me, strained to grab me and pull me up." And she had. I remembered it distinctly. All of those fade spiders clicking and clacking at me with over sized pincers. I shuddered again, violently. "I can't tell you more than that."

We headed into what was left of the temple.

Varric let out a low whistle as he looked up, "The breach _is_ a long way up."

I looked up. Big mistake. I dropped my gaze immediately. The mark, the mark, whatever the hell it is, let me hear the roaring but it also let me see things no human being should see. I took a deep, slightly unsteady breath. I'd been to the Fade as whole person before. It wasn't an experience I wanted an encore of any time soon.

Leliana and a small contingent of soldiers arrived a moment later. "You're here! Thank the Maker."

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple." Cassandra tells her.

Leliana nodded and walked away to give the men direction.

Then Cassandra turned to me. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"

The mark flared a little, sending fire ants up my bone and into my chest. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth and clenched my left hand tightly. "As I'll ever be."

"This rift was the first and is the key." Solas spoke up. "Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach."

"Then let's find a way down." She replied. "And be careful."

The soldiers with Leliana leading them followed us further into the ruins of the temple. We began to pick our way past outcroppings of shattered stone and destroyed brick sections. "Leliana," I called over to her, "is it my imagination or did the chantry fill in that giant hole from the guardian's tests?"

She lets out a low, slightly amused sound. "You remember that?"

"It wasn't that long ago!"

"Yes, it took nearly seventeen weeks, over a thousand units of dirt to fill and pack the hole and then we had to disenchant and disassemble the test itself." She shook her head. "I cannot believe you thought of that now."

"Well it was technically the last time I was here. Before, you know, some lunatic decided to explode the Fade into a vortex of monsters and madness in the sky."

Then, as we reached a place where the stone became darker, indicating it was closer to the central blast, the echoes of voices began.

"Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."

Here is where the fuzzy part of my memory began. I know that I heard something about a sacrifice when I came through. I also know that I realized I was the only person in that hallway. I distinctly remembered the feeling of having to go in there, despite being alone and unarmed because he was going to sacrifice the Divine.

Cassandra's voice cut through my reverie. "What are we hearing?"

"At a guess: The person who created the Breach." Solas answered her.

We came up on some of the soldiers holding position. A couple of archers holding steady, watching the area of the rift. Nearby red lyrium, practically pulsing in time with the rift's roaring jutted out of the ground in a stalagmite.

Varric let out a series of colorful curse words. A couple of them not in common/English. "Elyria, tell me that isn't what I think that is."

"I don't lie to my friends Varric," I reminded him.

He cursed again. "Seeker…"

Cassandra's voice held just a touch of fear. "I see it, Varric."

"But what it's _doing_ here?" The dwarf demanded.

Solas went close to one of the stalagmites, eyeing it the way a scientist might an anomaly. "Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…"

"It's evil. Whatever you do don't touch it." Varric tried to warn him off of getting too close.

More Echos. The male voice said, "Keep the sacrifice still."

The voice of Justinia came less than a heartbeat later. "Someone help me!"

"That is Divine Justinia's voice!" Cried, Cassandra and her pace picked up.

We reached the end of the path quickly, the group of us and the soldiers lead by Leliana. Down a set of stairs and then down into the central pit where the rift had taken up residence. More dead people here, though they're bone and not the horrors of burned humans frozen in horror.

The mark flared, and goddamn it hurt so much worse than all of the others. This one was a pulse, one that slapped my palm at the same time it managed to hit all the other parts, including my spine. I moved involuntarily, my upper back and neck responding in kind to the pain.

More voices from the Fade followed the flare up.

"Someone help me!" Justinia cried for help.

My voice came, "Put her down asshole!"

"That was your voice." Cassandra's voice held a mix of emotions. "Most Holy called out to you. But…"

"Not to me," I corrected, shaking off what I could of the effect the mark had on me. "To anyone to help her. I was the closest person."

The flash was almost blinding when it came, leaving me with spots of blue and white in my vision. I wasn't the only one. Leliana had her hand up to shield her face. Cassandra used her arm to block the worst of it. Varric's head was bowed, finger already rubbing his eyes. Solas, on the other hand, either wasn't bothered by it or had already recovered. He pointed upward to the nearly transparent images above us.

The spectral projection of Divine Justinia floated midair, held in place by an angry red energy trapping her arms. She looked desperate and terrified. The dark figure looming over her was ominous and threatening even for a shadow.

I entered the room a moment later brandishing what looked like a letter opener and, what the shit was I thinking, a heavy looking hand mirror. Guess I hadn't been able to get a decent weapon. "Put her down asshole!"

"Run while you can child!" Justinia warned me. "Warn them!"

"We have an intruder." The dark shadow's voice reverberated off the stone walls around us. "Kill her."

The next flash was just as blinding. One of the soldiers, I think, cursed like a sailor in response.

"You _were_ there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" Cassandra's voice cut through the recovery time.

"I don't know, that's the point where everything gets fuzzy. I don't even remember grabbing something to try to defend myself!"

"Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place." Solas began. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily." He looked over his shoulder at me, then at Cassandra, "I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons." Cassandra's voice rose over the steady rumbling of the rift. "Stand ready!" The soldiers in the pit readied themselves, swords drawn, shields at the ready. The archers on the rise above us knocked arrows.

I took a handful of steps closer to the rift, raised my hand. I felt the rift reach for the mark and pull it from me. A long, green tendril of energy shot off the giant rift in the sky and into a random spot mid-air around fifty feet from me. A pride demon, at least fifteen feet high, broad and muscle bound roared at us louder than the rift.

Now came the hard part.


	4. Chapter 4

Miike Snow - My Trigger

Imagine Dragons - Demons

Lorde - Team

Four Non Blondes - What's Up

Fatboy Slim - Demons

Kongos - Hey I don't know.

* * *

Chapter 4:

Waking up was painful. Stiffness _everywhere_. I felt kind of like that time I tried working out until exhaustion. Like my ass was kicked by something large, mean and nasty. Repeatedly.

I distinctly remembered the fight with the pride demon and I didn't actually get hit by the demon itself. Oh it swung at me, and then someone else would draw its ire and I would go back to fighting the shades and trying to close the damn hole in the sky. The straw filled, burlap mattress didn't help matters. I lay there quietly, listening to the world and waiting for my body to be okay with getting up.

The door opened. The elven woman hummed in a low, somewhat pleasant tone. Funny. I never noticed she was humming in the game.

Time to get up.

Grunting in pain, I pushed up just as the elven woman dropped the box she was holding on the floor. She looked at me the way a startled deer does a car that just stopped short of making smashed venison on the highway. "Oh!" She stared at me with big eyes for a second, then managed. "I didn't know you were awake, I swear!"

I tried to smile, I did, but I think it came off as a cross between a glare and a wry twist of the lips. "You're good, no problem." Oh, ugh, sitting up, there was the problem. My chest and back hurt like a son of a bitch.

She fell to her knees. "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant."

Oh hell. "Ah, hey, no bowing to me. I put my boots on one foot at a time, just like you."

She looked up, then around like she was waiting for someone to correct me.

"Up,"I motioned from my propped up position. "Then talk."

Slowly, as if uncertain that she should have been standing, the elven woman got up. "You're back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days!"

I let out a long, slow breath and flop back on the pillows. "Thank the effing lord."

"I'm sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you've wakened. She said 'at once'!"

I waved one hand at her. "Feel free to tell her. I'm going to sit here and be a human sized ball of pain for a bit."

Once she was gone, off to tell Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana and the rest of Haven that I was among the living again, I eased myself back up and slid into a sitting position. Oh god. Wow._ Everything_ _hurt_. My thighs felt like I'd run a 15k, my core was finally feeling all of that twisting and turning from fighting, my right arm felt like a solid piece of lead and my left arm. Jesus, forget my left arm. There are no words to explain the heavy exhaustion and residual bone deep soreness radiating from my left arm.

Every single bone and muscle in my body screamed **no!** as I got up and began stretching. I could only imagine how bad it would have been if I hadn't gone to the gym regularly. Arms up, touch the sky, legs at shoulder width, bend and touch the floor. Touch the left foot, touch the right foot, touch the floor again. Back up, head straight, tilt neck left, tilt neck right. Left arm, the sorest of all, across the chest stretching out to the right. Right arm, across the chest stretching to the left.

I went through each stretch a couple of times before my body started to feel okay again. It hurt less to breathe when I finally went in search of my clothing. Someone had put me in the Inquisitor's lounge wear and while they were comfortable, they weren't all that warm. No way I was walking outside without some kind of armor or my clothing and thermals.

In the chest on the ground next to the desk by the window, I found armor. Nothing fancy, generic scale and leather armor with straps for resizing. The colors were dark greens, dark browns and some soft fur in cream on the inside of a brown coat. Armor got fancier in Inquisition. Ah, there were my clothes sitting folded under the armor. Someone cleaned them of the blood, and patched the holes. I grabbed the thermals and pulled them on first, then, with my muscles protesting I pulled on some of the armor and fastened everything into place. My boots didn't really go with the ensemble, but I'd have to deal with it for the time being. At least until I could get to a cobbler and get better boots. The jacket, duster-esque in appearance, went on last, the fur warm and inviting.

_Now_ I could brave the cold, snow dusted landscape outside.

For a good few seconds I stood a step or two from the door, working up the courage to get myself to open it. I reached out, grabbed the handle and took a deep breath. I know what happens in game, but really living it is a whole different story. With another roll of my neck and shoulders I opened the front door.

Standing on the front step to the cabin I woke up in, with all these soldier saluting me was kind of mind shatteringly surreal. Spine straight, head up and body aching, I walked down the line of men and women with their fists over their chests in salute to me.

Nearby two women stage whispered about me being the Herald of Andraste.

I made the trek from the cabin to the chantry, with people saluting me and talking about me, calling out a blessing or thank you to me. Other people were coming to see now, as word was spreading. I kept walking. Up the steps to the next level by the tents, then down that walk way to the next small set of stairs. Up those stairs to the walkway toward the chantry. From the top of the stairs I saw the sisters and brothers of the chantry were already deep in conversation. As I drew near the talking quieted down. Then someone asked the Maker to watch over me. The other called me the Herald and told me to go in peace.

I pushed open the doors and there it was. The old Haven chantry. It was much brighter than the last time I was here. Quite a feat since there were no windows through out. Lit torches were against every pillar, dozens upon dozens of candles lit and clustered around on the floor. It felt almost cozy.

For a windowless brick building that used to be a cultist lair that is.

Last time I was here, in this room, there was a center stage with blood stains on it. There was a madman of a religious leader. This was after we discovered the bodies of the Redcliffe knights and the shopkeeper decided to attack us instead of making a run for it.

The sound of Roderick's voice reached me around ten feet from the door. "Have you gone completely mad? She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine."

Cassandra's voice came next. "I do not believe she is guilty."

"The prisoner failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, she intended it this way."

Again Cassandra spoke sounding adamant. "I do not believe that."

At least someone had faith in me.

"That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chantry." Returned sounding all the more pissed off at her refusal to follow orders.

"My duty is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor." Cassandra returned with irritation. "As is yours."

Guess that would be my cue. I pushed open the door and walked in. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Chain her." Roderick ordered the two templars standing by the inside of the doorway. "I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial."

The two templars began to move.

"Disregard that, and leave us." Cassandra ordered them.

The two templars saluted her, and left.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker." Roderick warned her, still looking very much irritated.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine," I said to Roderick.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me.

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it." Cassandra continued.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others - or have allies who yet live." Leliana seemed to make it a point to look directly at Chancellor Roderick when she said it.

"_I _am a suspect?" His incredulous tone spoke volumes about his astonishment with her conclusions.

"You, and many others."She concluded.

"But _not_ the prisoner."

"Elyria," I told him, "my name, is Elyria. E, L, Y, R, I, A. If you keep calling me 'the prisoner' I'm going to…" I actually couldn't think of anything so I went with, "sing the song that doesn't until you beg me to just put you out of your misery."

Leliana wrinkled her nose. "No one deserves _that_."

"Remember when I did it to those guys who kept hitting on you at that bar in Denerim?"

"Yes," her expression softened a little, "and then I could not stop humming it for nearly a week."

"Real ear worm, isn't it?"

"Elyria," Cassandra said to Roderick, "has done much for this country, and for many people that are willing to personally attest to her innocence. I saw the Divine call to for help and Elyria walk into a fight barely armed, willing to fight for the Divine's salvation."

"So her survival, that thing on her hand - all a coincidence?"

"Divine providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour. Much as he has before."

I put my hands up, "Woah, I am _not_ a hero. Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people _killed_." I'm wearing brown, a browncoat quote fits. "Trust me, it's right there in the dictionary next to the 'chosen one' **always** gets martyred."

"No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it." Cassandra assured me before going over to a table by the wall.

"The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it."

"This is not for you to decide." Roderick told them with some finality.

Cassandra returned with a big book, the inquisition book. I recognized the symbol on the front of it. "Do you know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

Damn. I never really let that sink in before. The whole thing is Divine Justinia's directive. Either she was seriously prolific with hands of steel at her age, or she had a small army of people working on this at her behest. That was one book you did not want thrown at you. FedEx probably would have charged extra to ship that thing.

While I was marveling at the reality that the elderly Divine quite possibly had written that entire book, Cassandra had begun forcing Roderick to back up with power pokes. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval."

He shook his head, throwing up his hands and backing off to leave.

"This is the Divine's directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now, no Chantry support." Leliana touched the heavy looking book with what looked like a mix of sorrow and reverence.

"Like we haven't done that before." I said, grabbing the book off the table and thumbing through the pages. Even the pages were heavy weight, with bold script in a steady hand. "We've built an army from nothing before. We've walked from one end of Ferelden to the next picking up stragglers along the way. We can do it again."

"We have no choice." Cassandra added. "We must act now. With you at our side." She turned to me fully, "help us fix this before it's too late."

"Did you really think I wouldn't?" I asked.

A little bit of the tension left her shoulders. "I do not know."

"I'm known for joining fights like this. You," interrogated, "spoke to Varric, he might be prone to embellishment, and the occasional omission, but he's usually not wrong."

"Then it is settled." Leliana said with an air of finality. "The Inquisition is reborn."

Cue title sequence I guess?

* * *

By the time I left the Chantry, Leliana and Cassandra were already in full Inquisition mode. I left it to them to start things up. Cassandra asked me to meet her around noon bell to speak to me about war room decisions and to fully meet all of the 'advisors.' With the couple of hours I had between when I left and when I had to be back, I decided to check on an old friend.

Everywhere I walked soldiers still gave me a salute and a nod, but the bowing had pretty much stopped. Thank god. As I was passing the tents on the second level, I heard my name.

Varric poked his head out of his tent, "There you are."

"And there you are. I wasn't sure which one of these might be yours. How banged up were you after that fight?"

He scoffed, "Have you ever known me to complain about my wounds?"

"No, which is why I always ask." I looked off to the side at the tavern. "They serving anything good to eat in there? I don't think I've eaten anything for the better part of a week."

"Good?" He said as we walked, "define 'good'."

"Edible with a little flavor?"

"That's not good, but the food is passable. Not that gray Ferelden slop Cheesy used to make. How was the meeting with the Seeker?"

"She practically threw Chancellor Roderick out on his ass. You guys discover pasta yet?"

"That flour and eggs thing you made that time for Wintersend?" He made a face as he said it.

"Listen you didn't like it but Merrill gobbled it up like she'd never eaten before. Sandal had seconds!"

"Sandal eats seconds of everything."

"Lies, that red cabbage concoction Leandra claimed was a delicacy was foul nastiness." I pushed open the door to the tavern. In the corner the minstrel played a soft melody that I did not recognize. "Sandal had a spoonful and no more. I ended up making him hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffins."

"I'll tell her you said so."  
I stopped mid-step. "What do you mean you will tell her?"

"I'll write her and tell her you said so."

"She...she's alive?"

"And well." It was his turn to pause. "I know that look. That's the look you get when you know something and you're not sure if you should say anything."

"Serial killer was kidnapping and killing women, then taking body parts from the women to make a necromantic doll," I chose my words carefully as we sat down. "He would have taken her on a day she went to see Gamlen about, three or four years ago."

"Nothing like that ever happened."

"Never?"

"No."

I sat back in the chair and stared at him for a good minute. How? How had that not happened? I meant to talk to Hawke about it, but I'd left Thedas before I ever had the chance. How big were the ripples I created?

I left the tavern with a full belly, and kind of buzzed from the mug of mulled apple cider the tavern wench gave me. Definitely not non-alcoholic. The warm burn of it spread through my veins making the cold just a slight bit less cold as I made my way over to the alchemist's cabin. The sun had risen a bit giving the snow a solid white glare. Sunglasses. I knew I forgot something when I was prepping for the trip back.

Speaking of the sun reflecting off things.

"Solas," I called, spotting his bald head from the path up to the steps.

He wasn't necessarily just hanging out in front of what I had always assumed was his cabin. He was, of course, standing outside of it. Though, to me at least, he looked as if he was contemplating the Breach in the distance. Knowing what I knew about it and him, he probably was.

"The Chosen of Andraste," his said, then inclined his head just the slightest bit to me. "Blessed hero sent to save us all."

I laughed a little as I climbed the stairs to meet him. "When they tell stories about me it will be me riding in on a snow white charger, my hair flying in the wind with a mighty war cry slaying demons with every strike of a great sword blessed by Andraste herself."

"I would have suggested a gryphon," he went through his typical line, "but sadly they are extinct. Joke as you will, posturing is necessary."

"Isn't it always though?"

He gave me the briefest flash of teeth in what I can only assume as an attempt at a smile. Then he went the handful of feet to the top of the stairs and began telling me about his 'deep' journeys into the battlefields and war torn landscapes of Thedas.

"Every great war has its heroes," he concluded, "I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

I shook my head and with a tired laugh I told him. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Cassandra earlier. I am not a hero. Heroes are the people who get other people killed. I am," a lunatic for coming back here, "just another player on the stage of life."

"Stage of life," he mimicked. "Interesting that you would refer to yourself as such."

I shrugged, "Aren't we all?"

"Perhaps."

I looked toward the area between his cabin and the alchemist's. There was where we were supposed to meet. Right by the pile of wood. "Solas, have you seen a woman around here? She would be wearing clothing similar to what I was when you first met me. Jeans, heavy sweater with a thick looking black coat. Her hair would have been dark, almost black with some silver in it. About this tall," I measured to where Emma's head reached on me. "Carrying a few heavy looking bags around maybe."

His brow furrowed for a moment, thinking about it I guess. Then, "I have not. Should I see her, would you prefer I refer her to the chantry or your cabin? Or perhaps to the guards?"

"To my cabin, if you don't mind. She's a friend of mine."

"A friend of the Herald of Andraste, a powerful claim."

I winced. That title was going to get on my last damn nerve. "Of Elyria Duke."

He nodded. "Of course. Should I see her."

Distantly the ringing of bells indicated the time. "Alright, twelve bells, I have to go meet Cassandra about a hole in the sky."

He inclined his head once more. "For now let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach."


	5. Chapter 5

Miike Snow - My Trigger

Blue October - Daylight

Portugal. The Man - Feel it Still

Imagine Dragons - Whatever it Takes

Taylor Swift - Ready For It?

Rag n' Bone Man - Human

Ella Henderson - Ghost

Florence & the Machine - Never Let Me Go

* * *

Chapter Five:

I met Cassandra by the front doors of the chantry. She nodded at me and pushed open one door. "Word has been sent, there is no going back now."

"The Inquisition lives again," I said with a punch to the sky with my left hand. Oops, big mistake. "Damn." My arm gave a bone-deep throb in response.

"Does it trouble you?" She asked.

"The mark? No, the pain stopped. My arm, on the other hand, feels like I choked out a qunari berserker in full rage."

She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "Varric told me you were inventive with words. I should not have doubted it."

"Oh never doubt him."

"If you say," Cassandra said. "What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed - provided the mark had more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by."

"And yet, I know for a fact there are ideas already on the table."

"Precisely." She pushed open the door to the room we were in earlier.

Now the table was covered in two heavy looking maps with tiny metal markers off to one side by a pile of loose notes and books. Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine were waiting. "An incredibly bad joke about a templar, a mage, and a rogue just came to mind. But I still remember what Leliana did to me over the last awful joke I told her, so we're not going to go there."

"What did you do?" Josephine asked sounding truly curious.

Leliana gave her a knowing smile. "Josie, you know I do not share trade secrets."

"You know Sister Leliana," Cassandra began where she usually ended in her game script.

"My position here involves a certain degree of…"

"She is our spymaster," Cassandra told me, ripping off the proverbial band-aid.

"Yes." Leliana seemed a little bit put out. "Tactfully put, Cassandra."

"How's schmooples?" I asked, "and where is my favorite nug?"

"Schmooples, unfortunately, passed a year ago. His offspring, Boulette and Schmooples the Second are being cared for at my private residence in Val Royeaux." Leliana told me. "Perhaps, if you visit, I can introduce you."

It made my heart a little sore to know he died. He'd been a snuffler, much like a piglet. He would role his face into your hand and snort like a grumpy dog while resembling a naked bunny. "I'm sure he lived to a ripe old age, fat, happy and loved."

She smiled at me. A genuine smile.

"You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."

"Repeatedly," I nodded at him. "Good to see you again."

"I am pleased you survived. I was told," he seemed to search for a word, "that you'd been lost."

"Technically, yes, but I found my way again."

"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."

Josephine inclined her head to me, "I have heard much. I never thought to meet the Elyria from Leliana's tales. Several of the ghost stories I have heard from her she tells me came from you. A pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you Lady Montilyet." I gave her the slightest of bows because, well, she was a lady and I'm a common commoner with an uncommon past. "We should get together and compare notes. I'm sure I have stories about Leliana that would turn her pink with embarrassment."

"Elyria," Leliana admonished at the same time Josephine said, "Consider it a date."

Cassandra made a sound somewhere between frustration and amusement. "I mentioned," she said pulling attention back to the matter at hand, "that you mark needs more power to close the Breach for good."

"Solas said the same when I spoke with him."

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help." Leliana said it as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

Cullen shook his head. "And I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well."

"We need power, Commander." Cassandra reminded him. "Enough magic poured into that mark-"

"Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it so-"

"Pure speculation," Leliana said.

"I was a templar. I know what they're capable of." He reminded her.

"Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounce the Inquisition - and you, specifically." Josephine, using her diplomatic talents, steered the conversation away from argument territory.

I liked her already. Before she spoke up I was about ten seconds from making a remark about them both being pretty. "Of course, because what is easier than pointing the finger at a scapegoat?"

"Some are calling you the 'Herald of Andraste' and that frightens the Chantry."

"Losing power always terrifies the powerful," I noted.

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra said his name with a decent level of contempt.

"It limits our options." Josephine went on. "Approaching the mages or the templars for help is currently out of the question."

"Though we could recruit outside the two," I said, leaning over and looking at the map of Ferelden on the table. "For now at least, until we have a power base and more than a wish and a hope to stand on."

"What would you suggest?" Cullen asked me, watching me reading the map.

"Leliana and I used to have friends. Unique, talented friends."

"Indeed, we did. As for Zevran, I need him where he is currently. He could be of use later perhaps."

"Mmm, not necessarily him. I mean Shale."

"The golem?" Josephine asked.

"Someone who doesn't sleep doesn't need to eat and can cause a lot of damage quickly. She's not exactly what we need to close the breach, but put in a tough spot, I'd pick her in a fight."

"Then you know about Wynne?" Leliana asked me with a touch of sadness.

"I cried my eyes out." My voice came off just the slightest bit rough. "Do you think you can get Shale here?"

"Josephine may need to obtain the crystals Shale uses, but yes, I do believe she will come."

"Good, what about recruiting from the Dwarves? If this thing reaches into Orlais, then it reaches into the heart of Orzammar. The last thing the Legion of the Dead wants is to rumble with demons on top of darkspawn." I tapped the spot on the map where the Brecilian forest was marked. "And the Dalish, though the clan may have moved on. A couple of elven soldiers if we have them with an offering."

Josephine was already furiously taking notes. "I believe we may be able to obtain Ironbark."

"Okay, that will work." I tapped the area of Amaranthine. "Oghren joined the wardens, but he also reconnected with Felsie. We should send a missive to him at the Warden's Keep and to that bar Felsie worked in. I've never known Oghren to turn down a fight."

Leliana made a sound between laughing and choking. "Or instigate one after too many drinks. We will need to import more alcohol."

"I'll send a letter to Alistair. If he's not too angry with me, he'll come if he can. Other than that, I think that's the end of our friend list."

"A Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you. She is not far, and knows those involved in the Chantry's fear of you better than any of us here. Her assistance could be invaluable." Leliana told me, taking a slight deviation on her script.

"If it's me she wants, then I'll go and speak to her."

"You'll find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands, near Redcliffe."

"Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence while you're there," Cullen added.

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you're better suited than anyone to recruit them." Josephine was already making notes on her clipboard. Or, rather, the somewhat middle-ages version of a clipboard.

"In the meantime," Cassandra said, "let's think of other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald."

I winced. "Elyria. Let's stop with the Herald thing, okay?"

Cassandra watched me for a moment. "I will call you Elyria if you prefer."

"I do." I leaned on the table with both hands examining the maps. "So explain all of this to me."

* * *

It took the rest of the day, but I got through some of what I remembered were cut scenes. Individual talks with Cullen and Josephine. The sun was setting when I finished my conversation Lysette.

"It's good to have you," I said, uncertain if I should shake her hand for following the Inquisition.

"It is good to be here." She told me and inclined her head. "Herald."

Yeah, that really was getting old quick. Okay, who next? I looked around the area, trying to decide between going back to see Leliana, the warrior beating the ever living shit out of a practice dummy or the blacksmith.

Tomorrow we'd be leaving for the Hinterlands. Travel there would be two and a half days on horseback, we were expected to spend nearly the week there and then two and a half days back. The report from Scout Harding was not encouraging, and I was completely and fully aware we were going to be walking into a massive and destructive firefight.

Blacksmith it was.

Harritt saw me coming. He put down a box. "I expected you'd be by. I'm Harritt, and everyone knows who you are." He looked me up and down, "How's the new gear fit?"

"Warmest I've ever had the privilege of owning." I stretched my arms out for him to see. "I suppose someone took my measurements while I was sleeping?"

He motioned to the loose spot at my waist, and the slight slack in my legs. "You're not too tall. Compact, muscular. Lady Cassandra and Leliana are similar height, weight. I guessed." He went to a wooden crate. "Stock armor and blades are good against bandits, but we're not fighting bandits. My gear will see you through demons, apostates and," he lifted out a pair of boots, dark brown leather, sturdy looking heels with the Inquisition symbol stitched into both sides on each, "whatever this world throws at you." He brought them back looking quite proud of himself. "Usually it takes a weeks time to make a proper pair, but these seemed to come together on their own." He held them out to me. "For you, Herald."

I took them carefully, feeling the soft, yet thick leather, and the tight gold and white stitching with the tips of my fingers. "Custom boots, Harritt, be careful, a girl could get used to that kind of treatment."

A faint blush crept up his neck and down his balding head, meshing with the dark reddish-brown of his beard and mustache. "If you need custom work, something special, you bring the materials to us, we'll make it happen."

"I'll keep it in mind." While he continued with his script, talking about the designs, rare materials and something fancy, I sat down and exchanged my boots from back in the other reality for these. The same soft fur, not faux like what was in my other boots, lined the inside. They fit perfectly.

"Here," he said, indicating the armor table. "I've a new schematic for mail armor that just might suit you."

I stood, tucking my old boots under my arm. "Already?"

"Something simple, to keep you safe lady Herald."

"Elyria," I corrected, "If you're going to guess the size of my hips and bits that accurately, I think you can call me by my name." This time he went fully red and averted his eyes. "Relax Harritt, you were saying?"

"Ah…" he still couldn't seem to look at me, "just, eh, em, just take a look it on the table there and we can talk. You'll need materials. We should have what you want just outside."

And that, ladies, gentlemen and all those without specification, is how I designed my first set of custom armor and weapons.

An hour later, after going over the details of a new set of short swords and a variety of dagger schematics, I walked away from the armory with a little pep in my step. My new weapons wouldn't be available before we left, but they would be ready when I got back from the Hinterlands. The mail armor would take a bit longer. Hopefully, I'd have everything before we went to Val Royeaux. I specified material to make myself look like a picture of onyx and ivory with gold stitching and complemented by dark blue blue accents.

I was going to _rock that shit_.

Harritt got exact measurements this time, I made sure of it. His wife took them in their cabin because, apparently, she needed me down to small clothes for accuracy. She went about it all business-like while I tried to keep warm.

It was damn cold up here in the mountains.

I saw Cassandra, sweat-soaked and wiping her face with a rag heading for the doorway into the town. "Cassandra," I called, jogging the handful of feet over to meet her. "You look like you had a decent workout."

She let out a small huff of a laugh. "If you call destroying a practice dummy a workout, then yes."

"Hey, you're sweating and you don't look pissed off. I'd say it worked one way or another."

She looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded, "Perhaps."

The night had begun to settle in, the sky turning a shade of purple-black, and the first of the stars began to sparkle in the sky. I looked up and the city kid in me stared in awe.

"Elyria?" Cassandra said my name with uncertainty, pulling my attention away from the heavens.

"What? Sorry. What did I miss?"

One corner of her mouth went upward, almost as if she were fighting a smile. "It occurs to me that I don't actually know much about you. Besides the stories that Varric has shared."

"Oh, just a girl in the world," I said waving it off.

"One that stares at the sky as if she has never seen it before."

"Got me there," I said. The torch lighters were passing us, lighting up the growing night, keeping the darkness at bay. "I lived in a big city all my life, so for a very, very long time I thought that the stars I saw there were the only ones. I learned as I got older that was wrong though I never went anywhere I could see them. Thedas is the first place I ever saw the sky properly." I looked up again, appreciating the way the heavens blanketed the world with pinpoints of light. "When I went home, I didn't realize how much I'd miss the simple act of looking up."

"But you did."

"You wouldn't believe how much." We were heading up the stairs toward the chantry, obviously where she was staying. "They're right when they say you can't go home again."

"It is never the same when you do." Cassandra agreed.

"Enough about me, what about you? "

She looked at me and, yes, she had about an inch or two of height but not enough to officially count as looking down. "Me? Whatever for?"

"We're probably in on being the Inquisition for the long haul. Maybe the next several months, maybe the next few years. Who wants a complete stranger watching their back?"

Cassandra seemed to think about it for several moments. No doubt mulling over how much to tell me or if she even should. She let out a long sighed after a moment, "As you wish." We'd reached the chantry by that point. "But first I must change." She looked down at her sweat soaked shirt and heavy vest. "I am, as they say, sweating like a pig."

"Alright. Meet you at the tavern in a bit?"

"Yes," she nodded, turned and pushed open one of the doors.

I decided to take another trip past the Alchemist's hut and Solas' place. May as well check to see if Emma had come through yet. The night was still early, the torches and fires keeping the worst of the cold at bay. I was going to go past Adan's hut then thought better of it. I needed to go out to that hut, may as well do it tonight.

I knocked on the door and, after a bit of grumbling and a grumpy, "One moment." Adan opened the door. We went through the usual chat of him observing for himself that I was alive and me thanking him for helping to keep me that way. I asked about helping him out, he asked me to check the old hut out by the Inquisition forces practice area. I thanked him again and left.

Then I checked the area between his cabin and Solas' cabin again.

No Emma.

"What would warrant a sigh that deep?" Solas' voice came from the front door to the cabin.

I turned a bit to see him. "I was expecting a friend to have made it through. I don't think she did."

"Many were lost in the battle and the destruction of the Conclave." He told me, almost sounding sorry about it. Good. He should have felt bad. A cold blast of wind decided to disturb our chat, smacking me in the face with the reality that night in the mountains, despite the deceptive warmth coming from the fires, was effing freezing.

"Come in," Solas said, opening the door and motioning to me. "It is far too cold to stand outside and speak."

_Will you walk into my parlour, said a Spider to a Fly; 'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy. _I took his invitation, "Thank you. I'll have to leave in a little bit though. I'm meeting Cassandra for evening meal."

"Not a problem," he told me and closed the door. "Might I offer you a drink perhaps?"

"I'm good right now, but thank you Solas." He gave me a brief smile. "How did you get a cabin of your own? I've been meaning to ask."

"I was told it was recompense for helping you recover from the mark. Seeker Cassandra can be fair-minded."

"I noticed."

He sat down and took up a cup on the table beside it then sipped, made a face, and put the cup down. "I detest tea, but I'm afraid the mulled cider and wine at the tavern are not quite appealing."

"Whatever keeps you warm on a cold night." I looked around at the walls, noting dark spots where paintings or wall hangings might have once been. "This was someone's before yours, wasn't it?"

"Indeed. They did not return, much as your friend."

Emma wasn't dead, though I didn't tell him that. More than likely she was just stuck. Now, how did I start the Ostagar conversation? Asking about the fade?

"You study the fade, don't you, Solas?"

His eye lit up, just like that, though he hid it behind another sip of tea. "This world, or its memory, is reflected in the fade. Dream in ancient ruins, you may see a city lost to history. Some of my fondest memories were found in crumbling cities long picked dry by treasure seekers." He sipped again, and again with that face. I kind of felt bad for him.

"The best are the battlefields." He set the cup down, leaned back in his chair, his voice taking on almost a storyteller like substance. "Spirits press so tightly on the veil that you can slip across with but a thought."

And you could feel them watching you. I nodded at him, "I've been places like that. Ostagar, months after the battle."

Solas' eyes did that thing again, practically lighting up with interest. "I dreamt at Ostagar. I witnessed the brutality of the darkspawn, and the valor of the Ferelden warriors. I saw Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden light the signal fire and Loghain's infamous betrayal of Cailan's forces."

"I was with Alistair and Aedan Cousland at the time," I said, letting it sink in for him. "We went back to bury the king."

He leaned forward in the chair. "Your hair was blonde then, was it not?"

"You saw us?"

"Of course. I have seen Leliana in battle, she is quite formidable. And you, I thought your fighting style seemed familiar." He chuckled and sat back, looking very much like he was incredibly satisfied about something. "A hero from the blight, now the chosen of Andraste."

Rolling my eyes I said. "When in doubt, people make shit up. I'm not even Andrasten."

"Nor I," he told me, "and yet the myths and legends have their basis in reality."

"History becomes legend," I misquoted, "legend becomes myth."

He tipped the cup at me, "Precisely."

I watched him take another sip and make a face again. "Would you like to meet him?"

"Whom?" Solas asked, placing a now empty cup on the table.

"Alistair Theirin."

Solas went still. Not so much stopped moving as his movements slowed to complete and utter stillness. It was a bit unnerving to see him like that. It served to remind me that he was not technically mortal, even if he was passing as one. "Meet him?"

"That's what I said."

He seemed to take a moment, but his eyes were bright with interest. "If it were possible, yes, I would enjoy that."

"Good. I was planning to write him and let him know I'm here."

"Would he come here, knowing what happened?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

He laughed. A short, modest laugh, but a laugh all the same. "Indeed." He nodded to something behind me. I turned a bit in my seat to see Cassandra passing the second window. "I see Seeker Cassandra is on her way to the tavern now. Perhaps you should meet with her?"

I got up. "Bright and early tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it."

I snorted, "Liar. No one looks forward to spending nearly two weeks with Varric."

"Did you not travel with him at great length in Kirkwall?"

"I did." I opened the front door, looking back at him standing there by the fire. "That's how I know you're lying."

* * *

Unknown to me, Varric's letter, the one he wrote while I was sleeping off what the mark did to me, was in the hands of a courier. Said courier had been paid handsomely to deliver a letter to one Alistair Theirin. Vaguely the courier wondered if perhaps there was some relation to the long-gone King Cailan but the thoughts dismissed themselves like the morning fog burning up on the road ahead of him.

He would reach Harper's Ford within the day, and, if he found the recipient of the letter before nightfall he was promised another gold coin on top of the three he had been paid already. The courier hadn't slept more than a night's sleep the last few days and had exchanged nearly five horses for fresh ones. Another gold coin and he would have more money than he'd ever seen in his life.

While I was chatting away with Solas back in Haven, the courier reached the small inn in the heart of Amaranthine. He was told to look for a man with ruddy brown hair, possibly sitting with a white-haired, tattooed elf. The courier, tired from nearly a five-day ride, walked into the inn fully expecting to have to ask around.

He didn't expect to see the two of them sitting at a table, eating what he could only assume was a mid-day meal. The man, whom he assumed was Alistair Theirin, sported a reddish beard with speckles of gray hairs, and a look of sheer exhaustion. The elf, indeed white-haired and tattooed with the oddest markings the courier had ever seen, looked just as tired, if not more so.

"Sir," the courier took the five steps between the door and the table, "I have a letter."

"Is he speaking to you, or me?" Alistair asked Fenris.

"You," Fenris replied popping a slightly wrinkled grape in his mouth. "Humans do not address elves as 'sir.'"

Alistair scowled briefly, "They don't address bastards as sir either." He felt like sticking his tongue out at his friend but refrained. It would result in bickering that would continue until they were back on the road to Orzammar. He motioned to the courier, a boy around eighteen or so, maybe a bit older, possibly a bit younger.

Oh to be that young and naive again.

"For me?" He asked the boy.

"Are you Alistair Theirin?"

Alistair winced. He didn't use his family name. Only a handful of people did, and none of them had contacted him in months. He took it, breaking the seal and flipping open the top. Scrawled on the inside of the letter flap Varric's handwriting plain as day said:

_Pay the boy a sovereign._

With a grunt, Alistair reached into his coin purse and pulled out one gold coin, gave it to the boy and said, "Thank you."

The boy gripped the coin like it might try to jump out of his hands. "Thank you, sir." Then he took off.

Fenris gave him a pointed look.

"Fine, but if he knew I was a bastard, he wouldn't call me sir."

Fenris made a hmph sound at him and went back to his meal.

"It's from Varric," Alistair said as he pulled the folded page out of the envelope.

"What does the dwarf want?" Fenris asked after swallowing a mouthful of porridge. It wasn't quite the way he preferred it, with cinnamon and a dollop of sweet cream, but it was better than hard tack again.

Alistair reread the first sentence twice before the words actually came together and made sense. He then sat staring at the words on the page unable to see the rest because of the very first line. Though he knew it was his imagination, he thought, for just a moment, that his pack felt a bit heavier.

Heavier by the weight of two short swords to be exact.

"I," his voice caught on an emotion stuck in his throat. Alistair coughed, clearing it, and said, "I think we should go to Haven."

Fenris, equally curious and confused, stopped eating. "What? Why?"

Alistair folded over the letter twice before tucking it into the pocket of his shirt. If he told Fenris, the elf might have gone back into the dark, depression he'd been in when it happened. Instead, Alistair went with, "Because there is trouble. That green tinge to the sky is coming from there. Someone destroyed the conclave. There's a huge rift in the sky letting all manner of demons and monstrosities through."

"We knew about the conclave and rift days ago," Fenris replied. He studied his friend for several moments. "There's something else you're not telling me."

Alistair, fully aware that he was, and until the day he died, would probably always be a bad liar. "Varric said the help would be welcome."

Fenris, knowing full well that Alistair still wasn't telling him everything, chalked it up to what was going on inside Alistair's head. "What about the calling?"

Alistair's gaze hardened as he listened to something only he could hear. "I'll deal with it."

"Are you certain?"

"No. I do know that it is much too early for me to hear the calling. I should be much older. In my fifties at least. Every warden I knew, that I had ever met, told me the same thing. Thirty years. The earliest I had ever heard of was a man who was nearly fifty when he became a warden and then heard the calling by the time he was nearing ." He hit the table once with his fist in frustration and anger. "That was still years longer than it has been for me. Maker's breath, I wish I kept contact with those wardens Hawke met. I would like to know that I am not the only one."

A rude remark about Anders reared up in Fenris' mind. He left it go unsaid. No use. The abomination was dead and gone, even if the war he started raged on. "Then we are not going to Orzammar."

"You won't get to bury me in the deep roads any time soon."

"I wasn't looking forward to it."

"Nor was I." Alistair looked down at his meal. "Haven is at least a week and a half if we're on foot. That's if it isn't snowing." He huffed, downing the last of his tea. "Let's get on the road, we're burning daylight."

Fenris paused for just a moment. His hand coming to a complete and full stop between the bowl and his mouth. It didn't happen frequently, and Alistair wasn't often aware of it, like now. He watched his friend of many years with sadness.

Sometimes, just sometimes when Alistair would speak, utter a phrase or make a comment, he sounded like Elyria.

And it broke Fenris' heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Imagine Dragons - Believer

Portugal. The Man - Feel It Still

Pharrell Williams - Runnin'

Rihanna - As Real As You And Me

The Black Keys - Gold On The Ceiling

Fall Out Boy - Centuries

Sheppard - Geronimo

* * *

Chapter Six:

My brilliant alcohol addled brain still somehow managed to remember to drink some water before I went to bed the night before. The morning hangover headache was barely a blip on my radar as I got up out of bed. We were supposed to be leaving close to eight bells - eight am - when it was warm enough to travel.

I went through my morning stretches, used the water basin to wash up and pulled on my thermals once more. Armor was next, followed by the coat. I used some more water to comb out my hair. The oil slick colors were still there, though they were fading slowly back into blonde. The stylist was right, demi-permanent colors were the right way to go if I wanted to fade out slowly. Damn, I really wanted the dry shampoo I packed. Wit a sigh, I put my shoulder length hair into a short french braid and bound it with the single hair tie that came through with me.

Wishing my toothpaste and pack of toothbrushes came with me, I set cleaning my teeth with the paintbrush like brush on the side of the water basin.

The world was quiet outside when I left my cabin, the winds whipped unpleasantly, snapping icy cold at my hands and exposed face. I grunted, huddling down into my coat, wrapping my arms around myself and shuffling off toward the tavern to obtain some breakfast. There were already a handful of Inquisition soldiers in there, sitting quietly eating a meal, or talking with a friend. These must have been the night watch coming off duty.

Several of them looked up, then stood up, fists over their hearts when they saw me.

I nodded at them, "Good morning." When the didn't sit down I realized I had to dismiss them. What did someone in charge say? I tried to recall what I'd seen in movies. "At ease." They all went back to their meals.

"Porridge herald?" The server asked.

"Do we happen to have cinnamon and some kind of nuts?"

"Walnuts and some almonds. As for cinnamon, no, but nutmeg with a little sugar seems to work for my son."

"Sounds good. And milk, please."

"Of course herald," the server went off to obtain my meal and I rubbed my forehead. Should have ordered more water. I took a seat at the back by the windows, a few feet from the fireplace. Every single one of the men seemed to be aware of my presence. When my meal came I gobbled it down quickly and left. No point in disturbing their down time.

One last thing to do. Going right out of the tavern, down the steps and began heading toward the abandoned cabin. I went around the boulder and down the snow-covered path. Thin, almost imperceptive tendrils of smoke curled out of the chimney. I stopped. Did someone decide to move in? Doing my best to sneak, I am a warrior after all not a rogue, I eased myself close to a window and peeked around a corner.

Holy shit.

Emma sat crunched up, face pinched pink with cold, warming herself at a meager fire and snacking on a meal bar. I went to the door and knocked.

"Who," her voice croaked, "who's there?"

"This isn't the alchemist that I told you to go to."

The door practically flew open and Emma, in layers of winter clothing, threw herself at me. "Ellie!" She sniffled a bit and her eyes were red-rimmed when she pulled back, but there weren't any tears. "I thought, I thought maybe you died."

"Me, die? Pfft." I walked in and found she'd spread out pretty much everywhere on the floor with the sleeping bags and the food. All four of our bags were lined up against the wall. "Well, you made yourself at home."

"And what do you mean by this isn't the right cabin? You said the alchemist's place."

"I said Adan's place, next to Solas' cabin."

She frowned at me. "Oh."

"Yeah." I went over to the desk in the second room by the bed and searched for the letter. "What if I hadn't decided to pick up these notes for Adan? You'd freeze to death out here."

"I've been okay," she protested, toeing the tip of one sleeping bag. "If you layer one like a blanket, you can stay pretty warm."

"I'll keep that in mind. Let's wrap this stuff up and move you to my cabin, huh?"

"Your cabin?" She asked.

I held up my left hand and opened my palm up to her. "Yeah, my cabin. The Herald's cabin."

Her jaw dropped and for a moment she was completely shocked. Then Emma rushed forward and grabbed my hand, examining it. "This is nuts," she whispered. Her thumbs pushed into my palm around the mark, gently maneuvering the skin. "It's like a tear, but it isn't bleeding." She pulled the area around the mark apart then pushed the edges back together. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

Emma looked up at me. "But it did?"

"Like it wanted to give me a heart attack and rip my arm off at the same time."

She grimaced. "Oh god, that must have sucked."

"Like a Dyson. Let's get you packed up. I'm supposed to be leaving for the Hinterlands in an hour or so."

She looked excited. "Can I come?"

"How about we just get you settled first? You've been in this drafty old hut for what? Four days?"

"Three," she corrected. Emma had already begun grabbing her garbage off the floor. "It took me another day to figure out what you'd done. I had to sit there forever holding your stuff and mine and trying to figure it out. Right before I felt like I was falling - thanks for the warning by the way - I had this thought about having a real conversation with someone like Hawke and boom, migraine."

I knelt down and began to fold and roll her sleeping bag. "Hits you like a Mack truck doing ninety on a freeway."

"I woke out there," she pointed at the back wall of the cabin. "Near the boulder. I figured this was the place to wait, so I waited."

She stuffed the garbage into a small plastic bag and shoved it into one of the bags. Then she began stamping out the fire with one foot.

"You're not going to put the fire out like that." I looked around, found an empty plate or bowl and went out to gather some snow. I came back in with the plate and dumped it on the fire. The low flames fizzled out. We gathered up the rest of the stuff, I double checked I had the right notes and I took two of the bags from her.

By the stables, men and women were preparing four horses for travel overseen by Cassandra.

Next to me Emma stared. "Is that…?"

"Lady Cassandra Pentaghast."

"She looks intense," Emma whispered.

"She is intense, but I like her. She drank me under the table last night. It was epic." I told her in a low voice. "Left up here, very last cabin."

Varric was at my door when we arrive, knocking and talking to the empty cabin. "Ellie, come on before the Seeker decides to-"

"Barge in and drag me out of bed?" I supplied from behind him.

He turned and his eyes went straight to Emma. He broke out his charming smile, the one he used on all the pretty women that he'd flirt with but never actually do anything about. "Who is this?"

"Emma," I told him and pushed past him to get inside my cabin. "She's from back home. Be nice to her or I'll break your trigger finger."

"Me?" He huffed in feigned indignation, "I am always nice."

"Lies." I tossed my bags on the floor by the bed. "We're going to be gone the better part of two weeks Em. If you're up to it, ask Cullen or Josephine if there's room for you. I'll leave word with them. Otherwise, feel free to sleep in the bed. I'd use the sleeping bag on top, straw mattresses aren't the best."

"Are you sure I can't just come with you?" She asked.

"Your accent," Varric observed, "sounds a lot like Elyria's."

"It should," Emma told him.

"So when you say home," Varric glanced at me, "You don't mean here." By here I assumed he meant Thedas. He whistled a short, low whistle. "You picked one hell of a time for a visit."

"Varric go get ready to leave, please. I don't want to have to get between you and Cassandra when your ass isn't prepared to go." I pointed at the door. "Now."

"I'm going, I'm going," he said backing out of my cabin. Then, aside to Emma, "We'll talk when I get back."

"Go!"

Emma stood there for a good minute staring at the door. "Was that really Varric?"

"How could you miss the chest hair?"

"Oh, believe me, I _didn't_." She snickered, "I didn't expect him to be good looking."

"Don't go there. He's a flirt with no availability. The blood pump in his chest belongs to Bianca of some Dwarven house or another, and **only** her. In the time I've known him, I have never _once_ seen him act on any woman that expressed interest no matter how good looking, sweet or well endowed."

Another knock at the door, this time higher up and with a more tentative knock.

"Come in," I called, ushering Emma further into the cabin. "You set up the bed for yourself."

Josephine let herself in. "Good morning Herald."

"Elyria," I corrected, "and good morning Lady Josephine. I'm sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush. Was there something you needed?"

"I passed Varric on my way to the caravan. He informed you that you wished to speak to me. I wanted to assure you-" She paused spotting Emma over my shoulder. "Ah, good morning." Then she looked at me again with an almost mischievous glint in her eyes.

Emma gave a tired, "morning." from behind me.

I couldn't figure out why Josephine was looking at me that way. I turned my head a little to see what she was seeing. All I saw was Emma shaking out an unzipped sleeping back to settle it over the bed. She looked a little rumpled and tired but -

Then it hit me. She thought I slept with Emma! "Get your mind out of the gutter you pervert." I groused at Josephine. "Emma, one of my best friends, arrived this morning. She'll be staying in my cabin until there's a place available for her to stay."

Josephine had the grace to blush in embarrassment. "Ah, forgive me, Herald. I believe I have spent too much time around soldiers." She suddenly found her portable writing desk/clip board interesting. "Of course I would be happy to help your friend settle in." The way she said _friend_.

I groaned, "You don't believe me."

"I do, Herald."

She didn't. "You don't."

"Of course I do, Herald." She still didn't believe me.

Behind me, Emma tried to cover a giggle with a cough and failed. "I heard that Ems." Sighing a deep sigh for such an early time in the morning, "You were saying?"

Josephine had the decorum to compose herself, and with a business-like tone told me, "Ah, yes, as I was saying, Harritt informed me that your new weapons will be ready in three days, I will have them transported with a supply caravan as soon as they become available."

"No need Josephine. I'd rather we not waste resources. I will be back in a few days."

"As you wish, Herald." She left with one more glance at Emma.

"She definitely thinks you're doing me," Emma said with another giggle.

"That's because she's bi, and probably **would** do you."

"Or you." Emma tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Too bad I'm not into girls."

"Alright," I grabbed the back sheath I'd been using from the desk and pulled it on. "Mi casa is su casa and all that. If you want to speak to Josephine again, she's in the chantry. Cullen is usually out with the soldiers training. Leliana is probably going to corner you for information at some point, be aware of what you say. **Don't have** too many drinks around her. Pretty much everything is alcoholic except the water so eat with every drink. _Hydrate. _They're boiling the water before they serve it because it's from that frozen lake out there, but make sure anything you get is boiled again or you use that water purifying stuff you brought."

"Do you want some?" she asked taking a few steps toward her bag.

"No, I'll be fine." I took up the short sword I'd been using and tucked it into the sheath, then slid the dagger into another sheath I acquired from Harritt the day before. "You can go into the chantry to pray and do the church thing if you're inclined, but the religion here is different. Just be careful what you say. Otherwise," she was looking at me like I had two heads. "What?"

Gingerly Emma pulled the stiletto from where I just tucked it. Carefully she touched the side of it. She must have felt it begin to slice because she pulled her finger away. "Holy shit Elyria. That's a real blade."

"I know."

"It could kill someone!"

"Yeah, that's _why_ I'm bringing it with me. You played the game Em, you know how many rogue templars and apostates there are out there just straight up murdering anyone in their path."

"But," she said, looking at me with big eyes, "they're people now."

"And so are the people who live in the Hinterlands that can't come out of their homes for fear of being killed. There are chantry folk out there trying to help the wounded who are defenseless." I took the dagger back, sliding it into the sheath. "Em, I get it, you don't do violence. That's why you're the healer and I'm the warrior."

She tried to laugh but it came out flat. "I guess they're technically just pixels anyway, right?"

I didn't want to tell her the blood stains were pretty real.

* * *

It took nearly a full three days to reach the Hinterlands. We arrived at the Inquisition staging point with the sun low in the sky. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to bring my iPod and a charger with me. Guess who spent nearly the whole ride rocking out to the Hamilton soundtrack. This bitch, that's who.

"When you say you already wrote Alistair…" I said to Varric as we coming up to the Inquisition camp. The sun was low in the sky, we had maybe an hour or two before sunset.

"Exactly what I said. If he hurries he'll be at Haven when we get back. If he doesn't, he'll get there a day or so after we return."

I pretended to mull it over for a minute or two. Then, trying as best I could to convey nonchalance. "And Fenris?"

He gave me a look. A look that told me I was in deep shit. "He might come. He might not."

Exactly what I was afraid of. Hanging my head. "If I start saying sorry now, how long do you think I would have to say it?"

"Oh no, don't drag me into it. You left him. You make it up to him on your own."

We arrived a few minutes later, dismounting. Oh, my thighs and butt. Ow. I hadn't ridden a horse in a long, long time and never for three days **straight**. An Inquisition soldier greeted Cassandra, taking the horses while a dwarven woman with ridiculously pretty auburn hair, freckles, the brightest green eyes I'd ever seen on a person, and eyelashes a beauty influencer would kill for came forward.

"Herald of Andraste," she sounded a little bit like she wasn't sure it was me she was supposed to address. "I've heard the stories. Everyone has. We know what you did at the Breach." She nodded briefly at me. "Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I - all of us here - we'll do whatever we can to help."

"Harding, huh?" Varric's voice came from a few feet behind me.

I turned my head a bit to see him, and yep, there was Solas on his right and Cassandra on his left. Again, the surreal moment of knowing I'm living in a video game.

"Ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?"

Scout Harding's attention went to him. "I can't say I have. Why?"

He smiled at his own joke, "You'd be Harding in…" he seemed to think better of it from the way Cassandra was nearly glaring him into the ground. "No, never mind."

Cassandra made a sound that fell somewhere between disgust and irritation. She'd been making that sound a lot the past few days. Varric seemed to have a knack of rubbing her last nerve.

"Book he wrote," I told Scout Harding. "Hard in Hightown."

She thought it over for a moment. "Never heard of it."

Back to the matter at hand before Varric got the idea in his head to talk about his novel. "Tell me about the situation here."

Instead of staying in one spot like in the game, Scout Harding lead us over to an overhanging area where she began to explain. "We came to secure horses from Redcliffe's old horse master. I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet's herds were the strongest and the fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But, with the mage-templar fighting getting worse, we couldn't get to Dennet. Maker only knows if he's even still alive. Mother Giselle is at the crossroads helping refugees and the wounded. Our latest reports say that the war has spread there too. Corporal Vale and our men are doing what they can to help protect the people, but they won't be able to hold out very long." She looked out into the distance, where the clash of voices and the distant clang of metal came from. "You best get going. No time to lose."

We were high up, and I do mean high. I could hear the occasional shout, the clanging of a blade or two and then there would be a short period of silence. It would start again a moment or two later.

"I'm guessing there are Inquisition soldiers down there defending the path up?"

"Yes ma'am." Harding said.

"And that the poor refugees below are probably holed up somewhere?"

"Yes ma'am." Harding said again.

I look a look up at where the sun was. We had a couple of hours of sunlight left, maybe. I met Cassandra's gaze, then Solas and Varric's. "Let's go relieve those soldiers." In response, the three of them prepared their weapons and we headed down the path. I made notes of the nodes of iron ore to come back to later, and the elfroot nearby, and to pick up the quest in the abandoned house on return.

A second before we reached the fighting, a nasty looking red spell, no doubt fire based, crashed into the wall above our heads. It spilled down the rockface like molten lava. We dogged around it and kept going toward the fighting.

"Inquisition forces," Cassandra said, "They're trying to protect the refugees."

"Let's give them a hand," Varric added.

We made it to the boulders serving as natural barriers for the Inquisition soldiers just as a small group of templars decided to rush the men.

"We are not apostates!" Cassandra attempted to address the templars.

"I do not think they care, Seeker," Solas told her flatly.

Solas, quick on his feet, cast a frost bomb spell that detonated the instant the first templar set foot inside it. Huge spikes of ice shot upward and two of the three templars fell backward from the force. The other was frozen solid.

Varric shattered him with a bolt.

One down. I ducked down, lowering myself into a crouch and peeked out from behind the new ice barricade. The templars were getting up. One took a spell to the back and turned around. Oh, look, the apostates decided to join the fight.

"More the merrier," I said over my shoulder.

"Let them kill each other," Varric said poking his nose out of the other side to see.

"Move back," Solas warned, "the spell will end and you will be in the open."

Varric and I pulled back behind the boulders and allowed the two templars and the three mages to battle it out. Just as Solas predicted the spell dissipated leaving a circle of frost covered grass to indicate where it had been. With a new opening, Varric, the Inquisition soldiers with bows and Solas began to attack again.

Going low again I crab-walked myself out of my hiding spot and over to a large group of bushes off to the left side. The mages, in the meantime had taken care of the templars and were coming, I let them pass me and went at the closest one from behind. Cassandra ran shield-first into the group.

In a chaotic mash of bodies, people, arrows, blades and spells we fought back at the mages until they fell. Once they were down I spotted an all-new group of templars coming in from the left. Solas tried the frost bomb spell again and this time he got all but one. More mages came in from the north. Then another wave of templars from the east.

"There cannot be too many more." Cassandra had begun to sound tired.

It had been a good twenty minutes with us holding the line and small waves of each rebel group, but there didn't seem to be a distinct slowdown of their numbers. "Varric," he moved up to join me. I pointed at the trail out of the area with my dagger. "Do me a favor, send a volley there."

"You sure Ellie?" He asked as he began to take aim.

"Wait for my mark. Solas," I motioned to our elven companion, "can you set that frost trap of yours a couple of feet out from the treeline."

He studied the area for a moment. "You are beating the bushes."

"See, I knew I liked you. Cassandra, you and I will clean up the stragglers. Ready?"

"You are quite good at this," Cassandra observed, readying her shield.

"I like strategy games and real-time simulations " I told her with a grin.

The confused look she gave me made laugh a little.

"Solas, now, Varric hold." Solas cast his spell, the second his staff touched the ground again, "Now Varric." He fired a volley of explosive shots into the treeline.

They scattered like roaches. Several hit the frost bomb. The ones who weren't fully caught by it were blown back or suffered wounds from the spikes. Cassandra and I rushed in. While she taunted I flanked.

Realistically I know the fight took less than a few minutes, but I will misquote the theory of relativity. If someone had been watching us, they might have seen a quick fight, but with us smack in the middle, it felt like I'd been in that fight a lot longer. We took a few more minutes to wait and see if someone else was going to try their luck against us. When they didn't the Inquisition soldiers at the base of the path that had been fighting with us signaled the all clear. A few more soldiers came down, including Scout Harding. All the while the sun had been slowly getting lower in the sky.

"Herald," Scout Harding said, "that was impressive."

"Group effort," I replied feeling uncomfortable with the praise. "Let's get these fires put out and make sure the refugees are safe."

It took a few hours, but the people - refugees all - came out of their hiding spots. Someone somewhere started up a fire to light up the night and warm the cool evening air. I recognized some of them from their reproductions on the computer screen. There was the worried guy whose wife I suspected had asthma and the guy who would give us the quest to bring back food by killing the rams for meat.

Solas stepped to the side to heal a child with a bleeding head wound. Her mother clutched her tight, afraid of him. The girl gripped her mother's skirts, big eyes on Solas.

"It will be alright," he told them both gently. A faint, almost minty green glow began in his hand. "A moment and the wound will be healed." The tip of one finger traced over the area of the head wound. It knitted itself together quickly, and faded into a very tiny scar. "A little oil every night on the scar," he murmured to them, "and it will fade."

"Thank you," the woman said, pulling her daughter's head against her chest.

"You are welcome." He looked sad as he moved away to join us.

We followed an Inquisition soldier to Mother Giselle.

"There are mages here who can heal your wounds. Lie still." Mother Giselle's opening line was the same, as was the soldier's she was talking to.

"Don't," he said, "let them touch me Mother. Their magic is-"

Okay, enough of that bullshit. "All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands, From the lowest slaves, To the highest of kings." I said as we approached. "That includes mages with ability to heal you." That's right, I know the Chant of Light. Parts of it anyway.

What? I lived with a devout Andrastian and my boyfriend, with influence from both Sebastian and Alistair, had begun to attend services. I decided to read up. The Chant is really quite beautiful for non-iambic pentameter poetry.

Either way, my three companions were staring at me as if I'd grown two extra heads. "What?" I said and then shot a pointed look at Varric and Cassandra, "Don't you two even start."

"Hush dear boy," Mother Giselle continued, "allow them to ease your suffering." She motioned to a mage who began to heal the soldier.

"Mother Giselle," I took a single step toward her.

"I am," she studied me a moment. "You must be the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste."

If this were Earth, I'd have offered to shake her hand. This was not Earth though. Instead, I saluted her much the way people had been saluting me and bowed my head a little. "I prefer being called by my name Mother, Elyria." When I straightened, she was no longer studying me, instead, a pleasant little smile had formed, and her eyes had softened a bit.

"Humility in one with power such as yours is as rare as a rose in deep winter." She raised one hand to motion ahead and began to walk, I joined her. "I know of the Chantry's denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it. I won't lie to you. Some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some," she sighed with a shake of her head, "are simply terrified. So many good people senselessly taken from us."

Once more I felt that pang of guilt. If I'd just stayed, maybe… A deep sigh left me. Maybe nothing. Vengeance, the entity that Anders' rage warped Justice into, could not be reasoned with.

"Fear makes us desperate," she said to my silence, "but hopefully not beyond reason." She gently reached out, touching my chin with thumb and forefinger. Her hands were soft like my aunt's had been. "Go to them, convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

I shook my head. "I doubt they'll listen to me. I'm the one with the mark."

"You need not convince them all," she assured me, "you just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you'll receive the time you need."

"Thank you, Mother," and again, I gave her a bow and salute.

"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by Fate, or sent to help us...but I hope." She looked out on the people, some huddling by the light of the fires, others attempting to cover themselves in thread-bare blankets. Nearby the wounded were treated by mages and chantry sisters. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us...or destroy us."

"I would hope the former, not the latter Mother."

"As would we all," she agreed. Inquisition soldiers moved around the refugees offering what I hoped were heavier blankets. There weren't enough. "I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much," she sounded a tad sorry about her inability to help more, "but I will do whatever I can." Then she walked past me to help a woman that had begun waving her over.

So it begins.


	7. Chapter 7

Stone Sour - Through the Glass

Stained - It's Been A While

3 Doors Down - When I'm Gone

U2 - With Or Without You

Steppenwolf - Magic Carpet Ride

Taylor Swift - Style

U2 - She Moves In Mysterious Ways

Justin Timberlake - Cry Me A River

* * *

Chapter Seven:

I won't be a bore and give details about what we were able to do in the Hinterlands for the few days we were there. Suffice to say, we had Dennett's word on getting his horses once the watch towers were built. The wolves were free of demonic presence, and we'd taken care of the rogue templars stronghold.

Those skulls, the ones that let you find the runes, are fricken freaky. Legitimately human skulls, with crystals for eyes. Like some weird ass binoculars. As for being forced to spot them all, that's even worse. You want to talk about vertigo! I felt dizzy every time I used one. I spent a lot of time bent over staring at the grass after each one.

Don't get me started on those Astrariums. Those nights keeping watch during the blight actually served a purpose though.

As for feeding the people, turns out seven rams and some deer was enough meat. I did get the potion for that woman's asthma, and the cult was reformed to ally with the Inquisition. We decided in unison to come back for the rogue mages after going to Val Royeaux. If anyone was wondering, yes, Solas, Cassandra and Varric did actually start talking about having enough notoriety to be seen by the Chantry representatives after a couple of days.

Here's the point where I remind you, dear reader, that the weeks in Thedas are **five** days. When I say that we were gone the better part of two weeks, it was about nine days total. Three on the way, three there, three back.

Approximately two hours before we were going to reach Haven, or so I was told, a snow storm hit us. Howling blasts of wind going at least fifty to sixty miles an hour slammed us from the southeast. The horses whinnied and stamped their feet. We'd lost visibility of everything more than twenty feet ahead of us. A complete whiteout in mere seconds.

"We need to take cover!" Cassandra yelled from somewhere behind me, her voice almost getting lost in the howling of the wind.

Snow flew at us, whipping in lashes that somehow got under my hood, my armor and pinched at the warmer skin under my clothing. I yelled out a curse and got low on the horse, easing him toward the handful of trees. "Get blankets! As big as we've got!"

Once we were at the treeline I tried to work quickly with near-frozen fingers. Varric realized what I was doing and he too began tying the edges of sleeping blankets together. Solas, Cassandra and a soldier helped us put the blanket up against the trees, suspending them and tying them to low branches with twine. We weighed them down with big rocks. As soon as the barricades were up the horses stopped with the nervous behavior.

It was still cold, the snow and ice were pelting the blankets and howling around the handful of trees, but we'd effectively made a defensive semicircle to ward off the worst of it.

"Well that shit came out of nowhere," I groused, rubbing my arms.

Varric said bitterly. "This is why I like the Free Marches. At least when we have a snow storm, nature warns you first."

"It is not a storm," Cassandra said with her shoulders hunched as she clutched at the collar to her coat. "This is a snow squall. It will die down in a few moments, and we will be able to move on."

"Extremely unpleasant," Solas grumbled and began blowing into his hands.

Gently I stroked my horse's nose, murmuring to him what a good boy he was. The horse Dennett gave me nuzzled into my hand and took the offered bit of carrot I had left in my pocket. Around us, the snow fell, and while some of it made it past our makeshift barrier, a good deal of it seemed to be stopped by it. Around fifteen to twenty minutes of howling winds beating against the hanging blankets, the squall finally decided it had enough of tormenting us and moved on. We could practically watch the wall of wind and snow sweeping up the mountain path ahead.

Kind of wished my cell phone worked here so that I could warn Emma to tell the others. Another few minutes passed as we took down and untied the blankets. They were covered in sheets of ice and snow. We folded them ice side down and bundled them together with a bit more twine. They wouldn't thaw in this cold.

The snow began to fall in big, fat flakes that settled soundlessly around us. The next two hours to Haven through the Frostbacks were nearly uneventful. Aside from the occasional snow fox or bunny having the poo scared out of them when they saw us, nothing else crossed our path.

We arrived at Haven snow covered, cold and ready for a hot meal. I climbed off my horse, whom I'd decided to name Bilbo. Yeah, I caught up on The Hobbit movies while I was back on Earth. They did **not **disappoint.

The world was quiet, soldiers either having retired to their tents or gone for a meal to warm up. A handful of people were out and about, but they were either rushing back to where their tent was, to their cabin, to the chantry or to the tavern.

Ugh, I shouldn't have said the world was quiet. As soon as I reached the top of the second set of stairs, I could hear the arguing from the chantry. Unbelievable. The handful of templars that followed Cullen here and the mages that joined voluntarily were at each other's throats.

So not in the mood for this.

Thankfully, Cullen got between them before I did. "Enough," he pushed the two ring leaders apart, holding them at arm's length.

"Knight captain?" Someone, a templar I think, said.

"That is not my title." He nearly shouted it. "We are _not_ templars any longer. We are _all_ part of the Inquisition."

Like a black cloud of flies, in swept Chancellor Roderick. "And what does that mean exactly?" He said with that voice that kind of made me want to smack him.

"Back already chancellor? Haven't you done enough?" Cullen looked like he was trying to mind his temper - and failing.

Good to know the chancellor didn't just get on_ my _last nerve.

"I'm curious Commander," he practically sneered as he spoke Cullen's title, "as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' will restore order as you've promised." He was grandstanding to the crowd. What an absolute _dick_.

Obstinately rude people make me all kinds of punchy.

"Of course you are," Cullen replied sounding both annoyed and tired. He walked forward, past the Chancellor and motioned to the crowd, "Back to your duties, all of you."

They began to disperse, a few recognized me and moved away quickly. Cullen, looking out at the dissipating crowd, spotted me. He glanced to the Chancellor still bristling a foot or two from him. "Elyria," Cullen nodded at me.

"Nice work Commander," I said.

"The mages and templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

"Which is why," Chancellor Roderick inserted himself rudely into our conversation, "we require a _proper_ authority to guide them back to order."

"Who, you?" Cullen scoffed. "Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the conclave?"

"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called Herald of Andraste?" The Chancellor shot back, "I think not." He had at least five inches on me, maybe more with the boot heel. He glared down at me with what came off as anger and distrust.

In return, I gave him my most banal smile and said quickly, "A sphincter says what?"

His brow furrowed, mouth partly open with confusion. "What?"

With a little smile, I patted his shoulder and tipped my head at Cullen. Cullen, in turn, gave the Chancellor one hard, angry glare and joined me in the short walk to the chantry doors.

"He's like a stink on your boots that you can't get rid of," Cullen muttered to me in frustration.

I covered my mouth to stop my snort in response.

He had the grace to flush a little. "Forgive me, I meant-"

I patted his shoulder. "I know what you meant. He's a pain in the arse that just doesn't quit."

The tenseness in his shoulders eased a bit. "But he is a good indicator of what you'll face in Val Royeaux."

I rolled my shoulders and headed into the chantry, calling back, "You know me, Cullen, when do I ever take shit from anyone?"

"Good point."

The candles flickered with the breeze coming through the door as I walked in. A sister (maybe aspirant?) prayed with Mother Giselle by the door to Josephine's room. I came to a full stop before the Mother, bowing my head to her in respect.

"Greetings, Herald of Andraste." Mother Giselle said. "How fares your quest to seal the breach?"

I brought up my left hand and opened it. A faint green glow emanated from the crack across the palm. "Slow and steady at the moment Mother."

She took my hand in hers, and like Emma had, gently maneuvered the skin around the mark to examine it closely. Then, unlike others, she placed her other hand over my palm and said a soft prayer. "A task such as this should not be placed on one so young. It is good you will not carry this burden alone." She released my hand and took a few steps toward the center of the chantry, her gentle, steady voice seemed to fill the area. "We remember Andraste, but Andraste did not carry the Chant of Light alone. She had generals, advisors...even her husband, for a time."

Mother Giselle turned back to me, rejoined me by the pillar. "Do everything within your power...but remember those who stand with you would help you."

"I'll remember Mother, thank you." I bowed to her once more and moved on toward the war room. Leliana and Josephine were already there, their heads together as they spoke quietly. The term thick as thieves came to mind. Both of them looked up at my entrance.

"Herald," Josephine inclined her head.

"Elyria," Leliana said at the same time.

There were new metal pieces on the map, one in the Hinterlands, one near Haven, one on top of that smaller lake just off to the right of Lake Calenhad, and one down near the Korcari Wilds. I grabbed an unused one from the box at the edge of the map and held it up for a better look. Yep, tiny Inquisition symbols. The little triangular piece over the Hinterlands was a large horned owl.

The door behind me opened again, this time Cassandra joined us followed by Cullen.

"Who took up Chancellor intervention duty?" I asked him as he walked around the table.

"Lysette has him for now."

Deep breath. Here we go. "Alright." I put the Inquisition symbol on the map near the owl piece. "Farmer Dennet won't work with us until we get watchtowers built here and here."

After the council and I collectively agreed that going to Val Royeaux was the main plan, Cullen and I were deep in conversation about our ideas for what good the Inquisition at large could do for Thedas. He was so passionate, I saw where a woman could fall for him. He'd mellowed, grown and was absolutely not that shitting himself, reactive boy he was ten years ago.

Jesus. That was ten years ago. Christ I feel _old_.

We were back by the training grounds going over training for the soldiers when in the peripheral of my vision, I saw people walking in the snow. I dismissed it at first as some of the men returning from scouting or patrols. Something about one of them caught my eye. Maybe it was the shape of his shoulders or the way he spoke to one of the soldiers stopping him. I fully turned my attention to him and took in a sharp breath.

Alistair pulled his hood back looking for all the world like and old man. His movements reminded me of someone who was bone tired. I missed whatever it was Cullen said to me and started walking. Alistair hadn't seen me yet. His beard was unkempt, his eyes had the deepest darkest circles I'd ever seen on anyone. His eyes traveled over the groups of soldiers training, the tents and then, his gaze met mine.

Ten steps for him, twelve for me, we met in the middle. He threw his arms around me and I threw mine around him. He kissed the top of my head and hugged me tight. I hugged him back just as tightly and didn't bother fighting the tears.

"Sorry," I murmured against his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Maker's breath Ellie," he said into my hair, "where the hell have you been?"

I started crying in earnest, big fat tears down my face. If this had been an anime, there would have been puddles at my feet. "I didn't mean to leave. I didn't, I promise."

I was more than aware we were creating a scene. I didn't care. My best friend held on to me just as tight as I held on to him and for the first time since I got back to Thedas, I felt alright. Like maybe things would be okay.

"You smell awful," I told him after blubbering like a newborn baby.

"We've been walking for nearly two weeks," he replied with a small laugh.

I drew back a bit, reaching up and drew his face down to get a proper look at him. The beard hid some of the gauntness, but not the tiredness. I had no other way to describe it. He looked like he needed a fifty-year nap and a decent razor. "You look awful too. What's wrong with you? Didn't you sleep at all on the way here?"

His eyes went off to the side, avoiding my gaze. "Ellie, don't...let's just...just...don't."

"And who is we?" I said pulling back further to take another look.

Another person in a hooded coat. A familiar, black, hooded coat. I remember picking that coat up after paying the seamstress for the commission. She overcharged me, but I hadn't cared at the time. He must have been freezing. That coat was made to battle Kirkwall's cold, not the cold down here in Ferelden.

"Fenris?" My heart jumped into my throat and began pounding like horses at Belmont. Oh. Oh my god. Slowly I released Alistair and he let me go.

"He's hearing the calling," Fenris told me, removing his hood. His face was a mask of cool indifference. "He has not been sleeping."

It didn't work. The ashes didn't work on him. On the blight slowly poisoning him. I took Alistair's face in my hands again, gaunt and worn and tired as it was. "We've got a pretty good alchemist here, I'll ask him to give you something to help with the sleep. Let's see him and get you into bed, huh?"

He tried to grin at me, I could see it but it fell short of his usual boyish charm. "Is that an invitation?"

"Haha, very funny." I took his hand in mine, "Join us?" I said to Fenris.

He maintained the cool expression as he watched us, me. Then his head bobbed once.

"Commander," I called to Cullen, "if you have a moment, please ask Josephine to have the desk in my cabin removed, and a cot or bed added. I'll be with the alchemist."

"Of course," Cullen immediately waved over a soldier no doubt relaying my request and sending the man running to the chantry. The soldier passed us as we made our way.

"This is Haven now?" Alistair asked as I lead them through the lower part of the town. "Looks…" he searched for a word, "cleaner."

"No bodies in the closets."

We both laughed.

"Around two hundred people and growing as we recruit," I said. "Bringing Mother Giselle here gave us more credibility with the Chantry, and we're building contacts."

We reached the second tier of Haven. "Turn right here, up the next set of steps. His cabin is the one at the very end."

"Who's in charge here?" Alistair asked.

"Herald," one of the soldiers saluted me as he passed.

I felt the heat creep up my neck to my face.

"Did he just call you-"

"Later. Alchemist first and if you're up for it, a bath, some food, and a night of sound sleep."

Alistair stopped. He stopped walking and turned toward me and gave me one good, hard, somewhat bewildered look in the fire light of a nearby torch. "Ellie, are you the Herald of Andraste?"

I pulled the glove off my left hand. "Technically, it isn't just me in charge. Cassandra, Cullen, and Leliana are in charge as well. I'm the face, they're the muscle, brains, and wits. We work together."

Alistair took my left hand in his bigger ones and pulled open my curled fingers. "Ellie," he didn't touch the line of green crossing my palm, but he didn't let my hand go. "You're not even Andrastean."

I shrugged then slowly extracted my hand from his and pulled my glove back on, then started walking again. "Come on. The minute the sun sets the temperature drops about ten degrees and I'm not a fan of how cold it gets up here in the mountains."

Less than a moment after I knocked, the door opened. "Herald, what can I do for you?"

"Sorry to disturb you Adan, but a friend of mine is in need of a little medicinal help to sleep. Could you give me something?"

He looked past me, at Alistair and Fenris. "Well, yes, yes of course. Of course. Come in."

While Adan spoke with Alistair, I moved off to the side, several feet from Fenris who was still giving me that stony silence. "On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most pissed off you've ever been in your life, and one being kind of angry but some groveling might work it off, how angry with me are you?"

He was silent. Completely silent. If I hadn't seen him breathe I would have thought he was a beautiful life like statue.

"I'll take that as an eleven," I whispered my chest clenching, and my heart sore. I only had myself to blame for my own ignorance.

"No," he said finally.

"Nine maybe?"

"No," he repeated. Fenris pinned me with those dark green eyes of his and said, "I don't care about you."

The agony I was in when I got the mark didn't compare to that moment. Nothing I ever felt before or after compared to what those words did to me. I… _shattered_.

My heart, my soul and everything else. My throat closed and my eyes burned, and for what felt like forever I couldn't **breathe**. I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to get the words out but I couldn't fathom anything beyond the hollow way he said it.

Fenris turned his attention away from me to watch Alistair talk with Adan. "I will find a tent of my own," he said while Adan began rummaging through supplies. "I won't be staying." I heard the unspoken words 'with you' at the end of that sentence.

"Uh," my throat seized and I coughed, rubbing it, "I can ask Cullen or Josephine to find you a spot. " I heard the scratchy croak in my voice.

"Getting sick Herald?" Adan asked, breaking the tension with a concerned tone.

"No," and I heard the croak again. I swallowed to clear my throat. "Just a lot today, you know. With the trip back from the Hinterlands and prepping for the trip to Val Royeaux."

Alistair's eyes left the scribbled instructions Adan had given him. "You're leaving? El, we just got here."

We. As if I could forget or ignore the stone cold silent elf six feet from my left. "No rest for the wicked," I told him. I pulled the door to the cabin open. "Thank you, Adan. Those healing pots will be ready in two days?"

"I might need a little more Elfroot, but there's plenty around."

No kidding. All I had to do was walk behind his cabin. The damn plant grew like a weed. "I'll bring you more in the morning." On the walk over to the chantry, "We'll need to find Fenris a place to sleep."

"Why?" Alistair said, either completely oblivious or well...no. Knowing, him he was _completely_ oblivious. He gave a very pointed look at Fenris, narrowed his eyes and said, "why?"

Fenris' tattoos glowed slightly. "If you wish to stay with her," he said the word _her_, "then stay. That is your choice."

"Oh for the love of…" Alistair said as Fenris stalked past us both toward the chantry doors. "He's angry Ellie. Please don't take it to heart. When you disappeared, he didn't take it well."

I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't. My chest ached, my throat was raw and my eyes burned. "I didn't mean to leave."

"I know," he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against his side. "I tried to tell everyone you'd come back, but the years passed and…" he shrugged as we walked. "Everyone started to give up hope. Six and a half years is a long time."

I'd been back on Earth for a little less than seven months and lost nearly seven years with my friends here. "You seem to be taking it well." I put one of my arms around him and squeezed. There was a little more meat there than I was used to. Gently I poked his belly. "You put on weight."

"So did you!" He pushed my hand away and rubbed the spot I poked him. "I _was_ upset, but I know **you**. You would never leave on purpose without saying something. I've seen those headaches you get when whatever is it tries to pull you away. You fight and then you're in pain. I knew eventually, no matter how strong willed you are Ellie, that you might lose the fight."

Okay, see, that, that made me cry. I burst out into tears again, sobbing like an infant. He pulled me close and let me ruin the front of his coat again. Alistair was going to have a big old tear stain on the leather later. Distantly my brain made notes about getting Harritt to make him a better one, one that would bring out the green in his eyes and compliment the reddish hues in his hair and beard. If he chose to keep the beard. I was kind of for it if he got it under control.

"Alistair?" A distinctly familiar voice asked in what sounded like disbelief. Leliana stood a handful of feet outside her tent, staring at him like he was the ghost of Christmas past.

He squinted at her, "Leliana?" He looked down at me and back at her, "You said...you said her name before. I thought I didn't hear you properly." Alistair took a few steps toward her and her toward him. They hugged.

"You stink," she said without pulling away from him.

He chuckled, "Ellie told me. She said I had to bathe."

She snickered, "You? Bathe? Maker forbid."

Despite the awful pain in my heart, I felt a little warm and fuzzy watching them. Technically, at least in the regular game, the two of them met in the DLC if she became Divine and he was king.

We would never get all our friends back here to play a role in this fight. My chest ached a little remembering Wynne. We would, however, get enough of our little blight-fighting troupe together to fight back against the encroaching darkness.

An hour later I had three soups, a loaf of oat bread cut into thirds with sliced cheese and three, small, apples on the table in the front room of the cabin. The barmaid was kind enough to bring them to me while Alistair washed off the worst of the grime. I gave him his privacy by hanging a blanket to block the view of the bedroom and thereby the wooden tub.

Emma sat at the table across from me, reading a book on her Kindle.

A soft, "Maker's breath!" came from the other room.

She looked up. "That's a curse here?"

I paused in pulling apart my bread, "What is?"

With air quotes, "Maker's breath."

"Not really. More of an exclamation, like saying, Jesus Christ. They curse is just like the average American with some British curse words sprinkled in."

"Alistair sounds British."

"Ferelden common accent. Pretty much everyone here sounds like some form of British."

He poked his head out, "I heard my name. Ellie, are you telling stories about me?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely. This one time, Em, we're in a bar in Orzammar and the barmaid starts-"

"El, not that one!"

I reached out to pinch his cheek. He batted me away with a scowl. "Touching his baby face and telling him she's never had a gray warden. Biblically _had_. Would he like to wait around until she was off work. This one turns bright red, chokes on his beer and ends up spitting up all over her."

To his credit, Alistair managed to only turn a mild pink. "I hate you."

"Lies. Are you done in there?"

He glowered at me and then ducked back behind the makeshift curtain.

"Where is he going to sleep?" Emma asked in a low whisper. "There are only two beds."

"With me," I told her. "We're used to it. He's the big spoon, I'm the little spoon. He gets the right side of the bed, I get the left."

She stared at me like I had two heads. "Are you serious? He's like, six one at least two hundred pounds. Both of you won't fit in that tiny bed."

If she only knew. "We'll be fine Ems."

Skeptically she tapped a few times on her kindle. "Fine. What do you want to watch with dinner? I have a bunch of movies, nearly all of Shameless and the whole first season of One Punch Man."

"No movies, the last thing we need is him freaking out over moving pictures. Have any classical music on your phone?"

"Uh, **no **_grandma_."

"No need for snark madam." I took my phone from where it had been attached to a solar charger and brought up my music app. Years in Thedas gave me an appreciation for all kinds of classical. Moonlight Sonata? No, too depressing. Sheherazad? The violins get loud no matter what volume. Ooo yes, E.S. Posthumus' _Nara_, and then Bond's _Duel_ followed by Florence and the Machine's_ Drumming Song_.

Alistair returned, clothed in a plain cream-colored woven shirt, dark, probably black pants, and clean shaven.

"There he is, there's the man I know. I thought you got lost under all that facial fur."

He gave me the briefest of scowls, then smiled at Emma. "Ellie tells me you are Emma, the other best friend."

Uh oh. I could practically see Emma bristle being referred to as the other friend. "I'm the original."

Alistair, realizing he'd gotten her angry, flushed red. "Maker, I just put my foot in my mouth."

"Yeah, big time." I sipped my tea. Ooo, peppermint. That's nice.

He shook his head, the shaggy bits of his longer hair falling around his face and into his eyes. "I'm sorry, let me try again," he stuck out a hand to her. "Hello, I'm Alistair, it's good to finally meet you."

She shook his hand. "Emma, and yeah, same."

He went to sit down on the chair to my left, Emma being on my right when his brow creased and he paused. He slid the chair out and sat down a half second later.

"Are you hearing it?" I asked softly.

"I always hear it." He said sadly. "When I'm fighting I can almost ignore it, and sleeping…" Alistair shook his head again. "I don't always sleep and when I do I never all the way through the night."

"What did Adan say?"

"He said a mouthful every night of a sleeping aid should help. I'll need more of it to make the trip to Val Royeaux."

Emma sat up. "We're going to that big French city?"

"Orlesian." I corrected her. "Who said you were coming, Al?"

"I'm going with you. I was training to become a templar before I was a warden. I know how they work." He said it so matter-of-factly that I didn't have the heart to argue.

"Okay then. Ems, did you speak to Harritt about gear?"

"Hell yes. It was so weird having someone know the exact size of _everything_." She dunked a bit of her bread in the thick broth. "Harritt said it would be ready by Tuesday. I didn't know that they used the same week day names we do."

"They do, but the day names don't have the same meaning ours do." I told her, "Thedas doesn't have a weekend though."

"Wait, no weekend. Are you serious?"

"Completely."

Emma looked down at her open kindle and tossed it to the side. "Well, that app is useless now."

"Don't worry." Alistair told her. "It took Elyria a few weeks to figure it out."

I snorted, "A few weeks! He's being kind. It took me nearly three months." Even then I'd still have slip-ups.

Emma groaned in response.

Eventually, the chantry bells rang nine times. I yawned and grabbed my phone to turn off the music. "We should hit the hay if we're going to get you geared for Val Royeaux Al."

He grimaced at me. "Ellie, are you certain that you want to risk it?"

"No arguments. Take some of that sleeping draught and let's get to bed."

Emma went to the other bed, delivered a few hours ago. She put her sleeping bag on top and curled up tight, turning her back to us. Alistair took the sleeping draught off the side of the table by the side of the bed. He tipped some of into his mouth and swallowed making a face.

"That's disgusting."

"Medicine usually is." I snickered, draping my unzipped sleeping bag out so that it formed a thick blanket.

He hesitated. "I don't know if this is going to work Ellie."

"How many times have you faced my night terrors?"

Alistair reached out and grabbed my hand. "This isn't a nightmare you can talk me down from. This is the _Calling_."

"You're the little spoon tonight." I climbed into bed and faced out toward the window. "Come on." He slid beneath the sleeping bag blanket, facing out as well. I wrapped an arm around his side and chest. "Breathe Al, and think about cute little mabari puppies playing."

He tried to chuckle, but it sounded weary. "They love to wrestle right from birth. Those," he yawned, "wrinkled little faces."

"Need me to sing to you?"

"That song about stars?" He asked sleepily.

"Sure." I gently rubbed his mid-back with the other hand. Holy shit the knots in his muscles! "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, Never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, Save it for a rainy day." By the time I reached the second stanza and I was singing softly about a pocketful of starlight, he was completely out.

I awoke the next morning to a heavy something weighing me down. It took a second for my brain to come to, and realize that it was Alistair. He was still dead to the world. At some point in the night, we rearranged ourselves into the old position of me the little spoon, him as big spoon. His nose wrinkled in his sleep, and he made a snuffling sound like a dog. It almost made me laugh.

There was no way I was going to reach my phone on the night table to see what time it was, and I hadn't heard any bells to indicate the time. I made a move to try to get out from under his weight and failed. The boy was seriously **heavy**. Gently I lifted his arm and he grumbled, eyes fluttering.

Alistair's eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times. His brow creased as he looked at me. "Why does your hair look purple?" His hand came up between us and took a lock of my hair, bringing it closer to his face for inspection. "Purple and green."

"See you really were exhausted last night or you would have noticed that earlier." Gently I freeded my hair.

He yawned and sat up, then moved out from under the blankets. "I haven't slept through the night in weeks."

"Feel better?" I asked as I crawled across the bed and got out.

"Much." He stood up and stretched. "Are we leaving for Val Royeaux today?"

"We are not going anywhere today. You need better gear. Don't for one second think that I didn't see you wearing that crap you probably got off some vendor in Denerim."

"Hey, I got those off of that dwarven guy in the Denerim central market." He told me with a bit of a pout. "What's his name? The one you were always nice to."

"Gorim." I was nice to him because I knew his best friend had been framed for patricide by the current king of Orzammar. "And when is the last time you changed those out?" I ask skeptically and went for one of my bags. "Pick one, strawberry or blueberry."

"Blueberry," he told me as he began twisting and turning to work out any kinks in his back.

I finished digging around and pulled out a box of oatmeal squares. I didn't want porridge again. One can only eat so much of that stuff. I tossed him two. "Brush your teeth after those."

He looked down at the packages. "What is this?"

"Food."

"What is this stuff around it?"

"Plastic and foil to keep it fresh." I tore mine open as an example and bit into it. My mouth watered at the vitamin C from the internal strawberry jam.

He turned one over, then tore his open as well. He bit it and his eyes went wide. "There's fruit in this!" Alistair exclaimed around a mouth full of oatmeal and blueberries.

I bit mine again in response. "Good, right?"

"Where did you get these?" He said after he'd devoured the second one.

"Back in the other place." I took the wrappers from him and put them in my bag. "I've got fruit leathers too, some granola bars that have nuts and honey, and I think I brought dried cranberries. There's some beef jerky in here too."

The door to the cabin opened and Emma walked in, with Varric in tow. "Look who I found."

Uh huh. Sure. _She _found **him**. Twenty gold he'd been skulking around the cabin waiting for an excuse to come in.

"I heard there were new additions to the Inquisition." Varric looked Alistair up and down. "Cheesy, you look worse than you did after Donnic's bachelor party."

Alistair snorted at him. "Good to see you too."

They did that manly handshake thing, with nodding at each other and bullshitting about stuff I obviously hadn't been present for.

Emma brought me a wooden mug with what smelled like tea. "Peppermint again."

"Sweet humanity," I sipped it. Still pretty hot considering how cold it was outside. "Thanks, Ems."

"I checked with Harritt, he said my gear was simple so I'd have it later today. He told me yours is ready to go."

"That's good."

She crouched down and made like she was arranging the bags. "Varric wasn't alone outside. I'm guessing the tall elven guy with the white hair is Fenris?"

My heart stuttered. I sipped my tea and tried to school my face into nonchalance. "That's him. Tall, good looking and perpetually brooding."

"He looks pissed." She whispered to me. "I don't know what they were talking about, but his body language was about a second from shouting."

"He's mad at me for leaving," I told her softly, watching to make sure Varric was too distracted to hear us.

"But you didn't do it on purpose," Emma exclaimed, and there went our quiet conversation.

"Broody just enjoys being pissed off," Varric said. "He'll calm down once he has a few days to cool off."

I downed my tea silently. It hadn't cooled off and my tongue burned. A few days. He needed a few days. Maybe once we were back from Val Royeaux he'd be calm enough to hear me out, but that was about two weeks and two days from Thursday.

Forces versus scouts versus diplomatic ties. My head hurt. I rubbed my forehead and went over missives on the Inquisition's map one more time. I'd left my kindle with the downloaded Dragon Age Inquisition wikipedia pages hooked up to one of the solar charges back in my cabin. Didn't matter how much research I did, making these decisions was hard enough.

"Your scouts," I said to Leliana.

"Consider it done." She said to me in return.

"Way too formal." I told her while moving on to the next missive.

"Should I not be formal with the Herald of Andraste?" Leliana asked quite seriously. If I hadn't known her better I might have thought she was serious. Those little wrinkles around her eyes told me otherwise.

I pointed one finger at her over the table. "Keep going. See what stories I decide to tell around the campfire. Maybe one about a certain redhead and Dwarven ale?"

Her ears and cheeks pinked immediately. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"That is a story I would like to hear." Josephine said with a note of interest. "Leliana is not quite so forthcoming with stories about her time during the Blight."

I smiled at her. "Oh this is pre-Blight, but I'm happy to share."

"We shall talk later, Herald." Josephine said, making a note on her portable writing table.

"One last request." Cullen set a missive down on the map. "It seems some soldiers have gone missing."

I took the paper.

"Other soldiers are volunteering to search for the lost comrades." Cullen added after I lowered the paper. "They won't rest until they've found them."

The quest where I get to recruit the Avvar. Interesting. "Cullen, your forces if you please."

"As you wish, Herald."

No instantaneous completed missions here people. "I'd hope our people will be found by the time we return from Val Royeaux."

"With all likelihood," Cullen agreed.

"The Storm Coast." I tapped the pyramid figure placed to the north. "Leliana, your people will investigate after the other mission?"

"Of course." She said with a nod.

"If there is any other new business to discuss?" I asked.

"I have nothing specific." Leliana said.

"Nothing." Cassandra agreed.

"If you have a moment, Herald, I would speak to you." Josephine told me as the others began to filter out.

I followed her to her office. "What's so hush you couldn't tell me about it in there?"

She walked around her desk, unlocked then opened a drawer and drew out a letter. "Leave us," she directed to the research assistant. The mage nodded and curtsied then left, closing the door behind her.

"Josephine," I said a little bit nervous. "I don't think I've ever seen you so serious."

"I did not think you would want an audience for this." She held out the letter to me, seal side up. "The seal of the King Consort to the Queen of Ferelden."

If someone had asked me to list all the things I expected when I chose to come back to Thedas, seeing that letter wasn't one of them. Ever hearing from Aedan again wasn't even on that list. I stood there staring at the letter for a good ten seconds before. "I take it you know?"

"Your manuscript was with Varric when he was apprehended. I may have perused it."

Gingerly, afraid it might turn to spiders in my hand, I took the letter. "You didn't break the seal."

"I would not break your confidence." She stood back from the chair behind her desk. "Would you prefer to sit and read it?"

I turned the letter over in my hands and examined the writing. He wrote my name out with painstakingly beautiful script. His hands were always elegant, long fingered and strong.

My brain brought back the memory of teaching Fenris to write out my name after I taught him to write his. His fingers were long too, dwarfing mine. Dark skinned fingers intertwined with mine as he asked me to show him how to write both. We practiced both for an hour. The next week he sent me a letter from some trip he'd taken with Hawke. He told me he missed our lessons.

I loved Fenris even if he hated me now. I hadn't cared about Aedan in years. The heartbreak he caused me was a distant memory. Shaking my head, I put the letter over the candle flame on her desk.

As a diplomat, as someone who was part of the great game in Orlais, Josephine had been training for years to school her face into the appropriate responses. She watched me burn the letter with a note of satisfaction written across her features.

The fire devoured the letter, the wax seal bubbling at the edges. "I'm surprised you didn't tell Leliana."

Josephine let out a little amused laugh. "Had I, the Queen would be a widow by sunset." She held out a small metal tray to me to deposit the smoking remains of the letter. Only a bit of parchment remained around the melting seal. "Shall I respond?"

"Please inform the King Consort that if he ever sends me a private letter again, I will hand deliver it to his _wife._"

"With pleasure, Herald."

"And Josephine?"

"Yes, Herald?"

"I'd like my manuscript back."

"Of course Herald."


	8. Chapter 8

Fitz and the Tantrums - The Walker

One Republic - Rescue Me

Taylor Swift - You Need to Calm Down

No More Kings - Critical Hit

Lorde - Royals

Blue October - Into the Ocean

* * *

Chapter Eight:

We left for Val Royeaux Thursday morning before even the birds had a chance to wake up. By horse the ride was approximately five days, we would spend two to three days there and another five days on the return. I could practically feel Jack Frost nipping at me in the gray morning light as we saddled up.

"Are you certain you don't want to ask him to come?" Alistair asked me as he mounted the Inquisition Charger. By him I assumed he meant Fenris.

I shrugged as I went around checking my saddle was put on right and the stirrups weren't too long and loose for me to mount up. My bog unicorn stood a silent sentinel as I went around her. "Do you want to go wake him up and ask him?"

"I wouldn't go asking Broody anything this morning." Varric added from atop his own horse. "He's gone from pissed off and loud back to brooding and silent. Let sleeping elves lie."

"What he said." Emma agreed. She looked up at Bilbo and back at me. "Are you sure this is okay? He's your horse."

"You could ride Boggie with me."

From the gates Solas let out a sleep roughened laugh. "You've named the Bog Unicorn, Boggie?" My undead four legged companion turned its head to Solas as if to ask, 'yeah, and bro?' Solas' laugh cut short as Boggie looked at him with dead eyes. He cleared his throat. "Forgive me, apparently he likes the name."

"She." I corrected with a gentle pat to Boggie's neck. She leaned into the touch. "Good girl."

"I don't think this is going to work." Emma said nervously. "And I've never ridden a horse. Maybe I should just stay?"

Cassandra, already on her horse and looking every bit as exhausted as I felt, gave me that look again. The one that asked me if I really needed this many people in our party. Oh wasn't she in for a surprise.

I nudged Boggie over to Emma and Bilbo. "Bring Bilbo over to the steps and use the steps as a mounting block. He's a good horse, he'll wait."

It took her a couple of tries, but Emma finally got it. She sat atop Bilbo looking quite proud of herself. "Woah, high." She said after looking down. "Really high."

"Not that high." I gently took the reigns from her and settled them properly in her hands. "Think of this just like driving a car. Squeeze a tiny bit with your legs and Bilbo will walk, a little harder goes a little faster. We're not going to go too fast going down the mountain. Just take it easy, keep about the same space as your horse between us and stay with me. Okay?"

"Okay," Emma told me with a nervous half smile.

"Are we ready?" Cassandra asked.

"Lay on Macduff."

"You will one day explain to me who this Macduff is."

"You want to hear the story of a man named Macbeth?"

"Do not get her started on Shakespeare!" Emma cried a second too slow.

I stuck my tongue out at her. "It was storming, lighting and thunder, where three witches enter the scene. They're old, too old to be natural and wicked to look at. They meet in a deserted place, where no one in their right mind would go voluntarily."

Around late morning I began to lose my voice, but I finished the story with a flourish of one sided acting. I lay in the dirt, gripping my short sword pressed against my side.

"He dies!" Varric exclaimed in what I assume was outrage.

"Oh, that was very good." Solas clapped lightly. "The court intrigue, I'd forgotten how twisted it can all become."

"What a crock!" Varric went on, "who's the author? We need to talk. How can they just kill him like that?"

"He had it coming," Alistair said. "Murdering your way to the throne is evil."

"The not being born from a woman part was ingenious." Varric continued almost as if he wasn't really talking to me any more.

Emma sat there glaring at me with an expression that asked, 'really?'

"So that is who Macduff is." Cassandra concluded. "Interesting. You use the term completely out of context."

I propped myself up in the dirt to look at her. "Seriously? That's all you got from the story?"

"I learned a great many things. Namely, not to ask about anything written by this Shakespeare."

"See!" Emma said.

I rolled my eyes at them both, got up and began to dust myself off. "Well that was one of his darker tragedies. Shakespeare did some really light stuff, lots of romance, then some dramatic comedies, and a truly ridiculous amount of poetry."

"Prolific guy, huh?" Varric asked as he cleaned up the last of his midday rations.

"Incredibly." I coughed, rubbing my throat. "Now I'm super thirsty and losing my voice. Gimmie that food."

We'd gone far enough that the snowy ground had transitioned to muddy ground and then dirt and damp grass. The sky had cleared of the morning fog and birds chirped happily from the treeline. I threw some of my bread at the ground near the trees. A few of the braver ones flew down, grabbed some and flew up again. In the distance Lake Calenhad picked up the sun's rays and reflected them back.

"We might be able to make it to Gherlen's Pass." I said to Cassandra, "if we push it."

She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the sky. "If it stays clear, we will continue until an hour after sunset, but the pass is tricky."

"Tricky?" Emma asked after swallowing.

"We're heading into the shadow of the mountains that house Orzammar. It can get cold and dark quickly in the forests below." Alistair told her as he began opening a paraffin wrapped egg.

"Remember that time we had a negative two day at school and we still had to go to classes?"

Her face fell. "Oh god. I remember that. I wrapped my scarf around my face and the moisture from my breath froze on the outside of my scarf!"

"What is negative two?" Solas asked from his perch on a nearby log.

"The temperature. Right now it feels like mid to high thirties, maybe in the low forties. Anything thirty degrees or below is enough to freeze water. Anything below ten or twenty is painfully cold. Anything under zero is negative, meaning less than zero. So a zero degree day endangers you with frostbite. Negative two turns boiling water into snow when thrown in the air."

"And those bastards still held class!" She looked down at her oat bread, dried jerky and cheese. "I miss burritos."

"With guac?"

"And brown rice."

"Double chicken."

Emma groaned. "Chicken."

I handed her another piece of jerky.

* * *

With the addition of Emma and Alistair, the Inquisition entourage was a bit more impressive. Emma looked good in browns and cream with accents of blue, her dark hair tied up in a bun at the top of her head. Alistair's gear was finished the morning we left. He stood there in the sunlight on the bridge into Val Royeaux, wearing dark greens and obsidian mail. The sole living heir to a throne to boot? The maidens would swoon.

Swooning was good.

"The city still mourns," Cassandra told us all as bells rang in the distance.

On cue, people began their shock and horror responses to seeing us, or rather, me. Maybe we shouldn't have been wearing Inquisition symbols? Maybe the group was too big?

Nah.

"Just a guess, Seeker," Varric addressed Cassandra, "but I think they all know who we are."

Dry sarcasm from Cassandra. "Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric."

The Inquisition soldier, no doubt from the troops we sent in advance, was heading toward us in a quick lope. "My lady herald." Instead of bowing she _knelt on one knee_.

I hated the bowing. The kneeling was effing worse. "Up, off the ground." I told her at the same time Cassandra said, "You're one of Leliana's, aren't you? What have you found?"

The kneeling woman looked up at me, then Cassandra and with a touch of uncertainty, she stood. "The Chantry Mothers await you. But…," She paused taking one glance behind her, "So do a great many templars."

Cassandra turned her attention to me. "You knew they would be here."

I shrugged. "Luck and logic."

She eyed me wearing a look that told me she wanted to call me on it.

The recruit kept going. "The people seem to think that the templars will protect them from the Inquisition!" She moved out of the way to make room for us as I took a step forward. "They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where the templars intend to meet you."

"They wish to protect the people? From us?" Cassandra's disbelief almost sounded a bit hurt too.

"With all the tales the Chancellor has been telling them, I'm not surprised." Emma straightened her gloves and smoothed back wisps of hair, "Didn't I say he was a troll on roids?"

"You did say that." I shot a glance to Alistair as we walked past the statues of Andraste and her people. "You good?"

He tugged a little at the neck of his armor. "What is this made of?"

"All the obsidian I could locate."

"Oh." He loosened it a bit again. "Good."

"I did not expect the templars to make an appearance." Cassandra went on as we walked.

"The people may just be assuming what the templars will do." The recruit went on keeping up with Cassandra's angry stride. God her voice was high. "I've heard no concrete plans."

"You think the Order's returned to the fold maybe? To deal with us upstarts?" Varric asked.

Cassandra shook her head. "I know Lord Seeker Lucius. I can't imagine him coming to the Chantry's defense, not after all that's occurred." She paused, so we all paused, and she addressed the recruit. "Return to Haven. Someone will need to inform them if we are...delayed."

The recruit bowed her head. "As you say, my lady." Then another bow to me.

Christ. I hate the bowing.

We cleared the end of the walkway, entering the Summer Bazaar and the guards sent up the warning. When they called out my title, I could practically hear the air quotes. "Yeah, yeah." I muttered at the one that looked like he'd gone full peacock in all that gold armor.

Another minute and we were...oh shit that is a lot of people. I cannot tell you, reader, how many people actually live in Val Royeaux. I can't even tell you how many people were in the courtyard of the Summer Bazaar. What I can tell you is that it was _**a lot of people**_.

"Em, I need you to stay between me and Alistair."

She didn't need to be told twice. Without being asked Varric took up a position behind her. I glanced at him. He nodded and adjusted Bianca's strap. Cassandra took the lead while Solas moved inward. The least geared surrounded by those who could take the damage. I kind of wished we'd already picked up Sera, but that would be later today or tomorrow.

There were people praying in the crowd. Some to the Maker to protect them from the evil of the Inquisition. Others to Andraste, asking her to bless the Templars in their fight against the Inquisition's forces. Either way, we were the bad guys.

"Shiny. Let's be bad guys."

Someone heard me, then someone else cried out. The people parted before us with shock and horror. We moved through the throng, heading toward the wooden stage where the Chantry Mothers were already waiting for us with Ser Barris.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!" Oh yeah, she saw us. Her beady little eyes followed our progress toward the stage with anger. "Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery!" The people parted further, many of them taking more than two or three steps back to make room for us. "You wonder what will become of her murderer." One finger pointed toward us. No, more like at me. "Well wonder no more!"

"Drama queen." Emma muttered beside me.

"Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste!" Again with that finger pointing at me. "Claiming to rise where our beloved fell."

"I claim jack and shit, in that order." I called up to her. The final few people fell back and we made it to a couple of feet from the templars guarding the stage. They glared at us too.

"We say this is a false prophet!" She called out to the people, ignoring me. "We say the Maker would send no heretic in our hour of need!"

"Heretic," Varric snorted. "It's not like you're preaching another god."

"No," Solas said bitterly, "but you are of another religion, and that scares many."

Emma elbowed me. "You're supposed to speak up."

I rolled my shoulders, gave my neck a quick crack and stepped up and away from my group. I went around and up on stage. The templars had their hands on their weapons as I did. Ser Barris got in my way. "I won't touch her or anyone else. You have my word."

He waited while the people murmured. While the Chantry Mothers backed away. "If you do…"

"I won't." He moved a step back, enough for me to reach the center stage where the Mother had been denouncing me. I began to strip off my left glove. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't start calling myself the Herald of Andraste. That name was given to me when this," I pocketed the glove and held up my hand, "stabilized the Breach. People were grateful and they gave me the title of Herald. I did not ask them to. All I want to do, all the Inquisition wants to do is close the Breach, stop the spill of demons into the world and find out who tore a hole in the sky." The green line across my palm bled a little energy. "You can label us the enemy. They can label us the enemy. You can tell your children that I am a terrible person, but I'm the one with the power to close the Breach and we are trying our damnedest to find a way to do it."

"It is true!" Cassandra chimed in right on cue. "The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!"

"It is already too late!" The Chantry Mother said.

My left hand, the one with the mark, almost felt tense with the approach of Lord Seeker Lucius. As if it knew the demon was in there. The demon in a human meat suit began to make his way up the stairs.

"The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this 'Inquisition,' and the people will be safe once more!"

I mean, I said I wasn't going to touch anyone, but I saw the punch coming and well… I grabbed the possibly possessed templar's hand before his punch could land. I got in his face when he sneered at me. "Try it."

The Mother drew back terrified. "You were going to hit me!" Her voice was a shocked stage whisper.

He tried to free his hand from my grasp with a hard jerking motion. I used his momentum to bend his arm out of shape and planted a foot in his thigh when his body turned. With a satisfactory **POP** his shoulder dislocated and he yelled out in pain.

One of the other Sisters on stage drew the Mother away from the violence. Again the Mother said, "He was going to hit me!"

In the meantime the possessed Lord Seeker had gone to Ser Barris. "Still yourself. She is beneath us."

I looked at Ser Barris over the Lord Seeker's shoulder. "Is she really?" What do you call it when you're playing devil's advocate to someone being duped by a demon?

Ser Barris, instead of looking down and away like in his script, met my gaze and then, with a hard, steady glare, watched the possessed Lord Seeker.

I met the Lord Seeker before he could reach center stage. He was big. Like Alistair was big. At least six foot something on my five foot four-ish. I left my left hand ungloved, letting the green energy from it be seen by him. His eyes strayed to it for the briefest of moments. Then he turned to address the crowd of people.

"Her claim to 'authority' is an insult. Much like your own." He was looking down at Cassandra when he said it.

Ooo. That was new.

Cassandra, brow furrowed, went after him as he began to leave the stage. "Lord Seeker Lucius, it's imperative that we speak with-"

"You will not address me."

I grabbed Ser Barris' arm before he could follow. "He's acting strangely, isn't he? Giving orders you normally wouldn't question."

He looked down at my hand silently. My left hand not the one on his arm.

"Some of his closest men like that one," I jerked my head at the one whose arm I dislocated, "are also acting strangely."

Ser Barris' eyes met mine and without actually saying yes, I knew I was right.

I lowered my voice as I leaned in. "My hand is reacting to him. And it only reacts to demons. I'll send a friend to Therinfal Redoubt. Gather up any templar that is willing to leave and be ready to go if you have to. Demons don't just let people go. They fight. They'll want _all _of you."

"The only destiny that demands respect is mine." The possessed Lord Seeker's voice pulled Ser Barris' attention from me.

I squeezed his arm pulling it back. "The Templars don't deserve what he'll do to all of you."

Ser Barris, either having enough of me or enough of the Lord Seeker pulled his arm firmly from mine. "If you are sent by the Maker, you will come. Until then, I am a templar."

"I was training to be a Templar," Alistair addressed the templars behind Lucius, "and I chose to join the Inquisition. You can too!"

The possessed Lord Seeker stepped up, almost chest to chest with Alistair and stared him down. "_I _will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the void. _We_ deserve recognition. Independence!" He turned and addressed me as I rejoined my group. "You have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition...less than nothing."

I flexed my left hand and the demon's eyes followed.

"Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!" And he did, bumping Alistair with his shoulder as he turned and moved out with the other templars.

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric said to Emma.

"That was fucked up." She said in turn.

"Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?" Cassandra said in shock.

"He's not normally like that?" Alistair said, almost in disgust. "Good to know."

"He was always a decent man, never given to ambition and grandstanding. This is very bizarre."

"He's possessed." I told them all after the templars had gone out of sight.

Solas hmmed over it, rubbing his chin. "That would explain the change in behavior. A corrupted spirit-"

"You should have said something!" Cassandra nearly yelled it at me.

"And risk us, the handful of soldiers we have spotted around, against the Templar Order and nearly two hundred angry, frightened people? In what universe do any of us come out of that confrontation _alive_?"

"We could have done something." She insisted, a touch of the anger draining from her tone.

"Right. You or Al could have attempted to smite him. The demon goes bonkers, orders the templars to attack. Chaos erupts as people run for cover and we prove the Chantry right. We're the bad guys." I looked out toward the long walkway where the Templars had exited. "Or, I could have used the mark to try to force him out, again, cementing what the Chantry has said." Shaking my head I met her hard, irritated gaze. "I know you don't want to think about it this way, but this is a chess game Cass. And none of us know all the pieces on the board yet. We can't think that taking out a rook will get us a checkmate."

Her shoulders sagged. "I...you are right. Though I am loathe to admit it. We must help them."

"We will." Alistair assured her and gently touched her shoulder. She didn't push him off.

A man wearing long, fancy robes with dark skin approached. "Pardon me, are you not the Herald of Andraste?" He was bumped by one of the people leaving.

The crowd had begun dispersing rapidly once that templar had hit the Mother. Now the stragglers were moving off too.

"That's what they call me."

The mage held out a slim, cream colored envelope with a gold seal. "I have an invitation for you."

"Thank you." I nodded at him. He bowed slightly in return and returned to wherever he came from.

"An invitation? From whom?" Varric asked with much too much interest.

I opened it while leading the way back toward the exit. Lady Vivienne de Fer's handwriting is astoundingly immaculate. Me being a heathen who never really learned script, squinted at it for a moment before I figured out what it said. She was obviously fluent in common. There was a single pen pause in her script.

"If I might have a moment of your time?" A voice asked from behind us.

I turned around, and the others followed suit.

This Fiona, the one that will be erased with time travel magic in a matter of days, paused, before she spoke, her gaze shifted to Alistair. Like any good political figure, she hid her surprise instantly.

She had Alistair's eyes. I mean, her's were bright, almost green, but they both had the same eye shape. Otherwise the Therin/human blood in him was dominant. Her hair was dark, his brown with a little bit of red.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra spoke up, breaking the seconds of silence.

"Leader of the mage rebellion." Solas took one step closer, watching her with what I'd say was a touch of admiration, "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"

"I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes." Though her gaze wasn't exactly on me, rather slightly to my right, where Alistair stood.

"If it's help with the breech you seek," she turned her attention to me, "perhaps my people are the wiser option."

Alistair shifted toward me, his voice low, "Do you really think talking to the leader of the rebellion is a good idea?"

She heard him. Poor woman. Seeing her son for the first time in what was probably all of his life, only for him not to know her. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster.

"I think speaking to the woman who stands up for the rights of others has the right to be heard." I replied. "Or have you already forgotten that you as a member of this Inquisition and a former Warden have been tasked with the responsibility to stop whatever it is causing rifts?"

He turned a pinkish color. "Ah...right." Alistair gave the Grand Enchanter, his mom, that flushed, sheepish look. "I am sorry."

"Go on Grand Enchanter," I told her giving him a meaningful, we're talking later, look. "Before my friend decides to open his big mouth again and insert his _other _foot."

"Ask about the Conclave," Emma murmured, "you're supposed to ask that." So much for original dialogue. I shot her a glare as Cassandra picked up the conversation.

"Yes," Cassandra said with a touch of accusation. "You were supposed to attend the conclave, and yet _somehow_ you avoided death."

"As did the Lord Seeker," the Grand Enchanter replied, "you'll note. Both of us sent negotiators in our stead, in case it was a trap. I won't pretend that I am not glad to live." The very briefest of glances at Alistair, hidden behind shifting her attention to me. "I lost many dear friends that day. It disgusts me to think that the Templars will get away with it. I'm hoping you won't let them."

"I'm not sure it was them." I told her and the group.

"Lucius hardly seems broken up over his losses, if he's concerned at all." the Grand Enchanter went on. "You heard him. You think he wouldn't happily kill the Divine to turn people against us?"

"Paranoid." Alistair muttered so low I'm pretty sure she didn't hear him.

"So, yes," she said, "I think he did it."

"And I think someone outside of this squabble did it,"I said. "This comes down to one bad guy who has a lot of cover and a lot of reach that's hiding behind the chaos he caused."

"You are certain of this?" Fiona asked me. "Truly certain?"

"I'd bet everything I have on it." I assured her. "Someone is trying to play both sides and I'm going to out them, one way or another."

She nodded at me. "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe: Come meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both, after all. I hope to see you there." her gaze again shifted that tiny bit to Alistair, "Au revoir, my lady Herald."

"Let us return to Haven," Cassandra said, watching the Grand Enchanter turn a corner and moved out of sight.

"Or," I looped one arm around Emma's left arm and one arm around Alistair's right arm. "Or, we could go to a fancy upscale Orlesian party."

"Party?" Varric perked up. "What kind of party?"

"The kind the Enchanter to the Imperial Court throws."

Zoom, plunk.

There would be Sera. I grabbed the arrow out of the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

Lorde - Team

Kongos - I'm Only Joking

Fall Out Boy - Centuries

Panic! At the Disco - King of the Clouds

Panic! At the Disco - Miss Jackson

Imagine Dragons - Believer

Imagine Dragons - Whatever It Takes

Sia - Cheap Thrills a/n (this song REALLY inspires me to think about Sera)

* * *

Chapter Nine:

Cassandra and Solas both declined coming to the soiree. Varric on the other hand broke out a stunningly clean red tunic adorned with gold stitching, a couple of eye catching tassels and - at least to me - a little bit more chest hair than normal showing.

"Any lower on that thing and I'd see your belly button." I groused at him as we, Emma, Alistair, Varric and myself that is, bypassed two guards at the entrance to the estate.

The dwarf preened like a peacock. "Just doing my best to represent the Inquisition."

"As a male courtesan?" Alistair added.

Emma didn't bother to cover her laugh.

After a quick stroll through the gardens we reached opulent marble stairs with a plush blue and silver runner down the center. The servants at the tall double doors gave us the briefest of bows and allowed us through.

Emma stared upward. She tugged my elbow gently. "This is insane…"

"Just wait, it gets better." I whispered in return.

Another servant stood inside the door with a list of names. "Welcome madam," the servant nodded at us. He held his quill above the list, "your name?"

"Elyria Duke, Alistair Theirin, Varric Tethras and Emmaline Flores of the Inquisition."

He nodded briefly then said, "Thank you, madam." The boy standing next to him made a mad dash to another servant with another list. The boy whispered hurriedly to the man as we approached and made another quick dash past us to return to his original spot.

"Mistress Duke of the Inquisition and entourage."

A quick look around yielded masks, opulent clothes and a table full of food. "Varric, could you please introduce Emma to Orlesian food?"

He grinned at her, "Come on Brooklyn, have you ever heard of the ham that tastes like despair?"

"It tastes like what?"Emma asked as he lead her away.

Brooklyn? She gets the nickname Brooklyn? God damn it. She gets the second most badass gargoyle name? Sigh.

Turning slightly to Alistair, my voice low. "When that dude over there starts to insult me, just be cool."

He looked around, "Dude?"

I sighed. "Just be cool when one of these guys starts talking shit, okay?"

Alistair did not look happy about it, but he did nod.

We walked forward, and were met by the masked man and woman. "What a pleasure to meet you, my lady." The golden masked man said and I could hear the near smile in his voice. "Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome. Who is your companion?"

Alistair looking a bit uncomfortable with the attention, stained a bit pink at the ears. "Ah, I am, um…" He looked to me for help.

"Alistair, a very old and dear friend of mine."

"You both must be guests of Madame de Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?' The man continued.

"Are you here on business?" The woman asked. "I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true."

"Oh, some of them are." I assured them. "Some of our soldiers really can devour a whole wheel of cheese in one sitting."

They both tittered in laughter, the woman even clapped a little.

"The Inquisition should attend more of these parties." The woman said.

"And here he comes." I whispered to Alistair.

"The Inquisition?" The guy coming down the stair scoffed. "What a load of pig shit."

Alistair bristled.

"Washed-up sisters and crazed Seekers? No one can take them seriously."

Alistair's fists clenched. I knocked my shoulder into his. "Easy."

"Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power." The guy went on.

"Political outcasts." Alistair just couldn't hold it in anymore. He popped like a cork. "They're restoring peace."

The guy scoffed. "Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army!"

I stepped between the shit talker and Alistair. "If you have a problem you talk to me."

"If you were a woman of honor you would step outside and answer the charges." Then he went for his sword.

The frost broke out on his body from center mass, spreading out quickly up and down. "My dear Marquis," Lady Vivienne was only just in my peripheral vision when she spoke. "How unkind of you to use such language in my house...to my guests." She was impressive in all that white, gray, blue and gold. And she was rocking the horns. "You know such rudeness is...intolerable."

I loved her instantly.

"Madam Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!"

"You should." She walked around him, facing him between us and him. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?" She turned, gaining a side view of Alistair, who was somewhat calmer and me. "My lady, you and your companion are the wounded parties in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

Wisps of vapor trailed off the Marquis' frozen bits. Any longer and he'd freeze to death or have a heart attack. "The Marquis is obviously angry about something, perhaps having to wear a hand-me-down tunic? Or being forced to," I sniffed in his direction, "wear that unfortunate mix of colognes to hide the fact he probably hasn't bathed in a month."

Now, while I am an equal opportunity pervert, I tend to lean towards attraction to the opposite sex. Male, human, elven or dwarf I don't generally care but oh my snoozing puppy dogs. When Lady Vivienne gave me that sly, slightly vicious smile my lady bits perked up and said _hello_. Finally, I understand what people are talking about when they say someone oozes sexuality and confidence.

She reached out and touched his face. "Poor Marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some ill begotten wrech." She took a step back and snapped her fingers releasing him. "And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney?" There was mild laughter all around. "To think, all the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning...and you're still here."

I literally have no clue why her being the epitome of a mean girl was hot.

It just **was**.

"Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel? Or did you think her blade could put an end to the misery of your failure?" She dismissed him with a wave of her fingers. "Run along, my dear. Do give my regards to your aunt."

Varric returned with Emma in tow. Both had a napkin full of little cakes and treats. "I like her," he said between bites of a pale blue macaroon.

"I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you." She took my right arm, looping it with hers and I was instantly questioning my sexuality. "Shall we take a turn about the room my dear?"

"Of course, my lady." Ignore the slight roughness in my voice.

Lady Vivienne lead me to a large open window overlooking a fairly pretty moon lit garden. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

I gave her a fairly deep bow. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Vivienne. I apologize for bringing so many people with me. I realize the invitation was for me alone, but..." I nodded at my friends just past the stairway oohing and ah-ing over the food. "I couldn't leave those three alone for long and expect the home of the Left Hand of the Divine to still be intact when I returned."

"I'm sure. Your Ferelden companion, he seems most…" she seemed to search for a word, "enthusiastic."

"An appt assessment."

"Ah, but I didn't invite you to the chateau for pleasantries." She looked out into the garden then back at me. "With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people. As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

"The Inquisition would welcome you aid my lady. A mage of your talent and caliber choosing to ally with us will make the demons quiver and think twice before poking into this world."

She gave the smallest of laughs and smiled without showing her teeth. "Great things are beginning, my dear. I can promise you that." She took my arm again and we returned to the others. "Welcome, all of you. Enjoy the party." Then she went off to mingle with her other guests.

I grabbed a drink off a passing servant and tipped it to my friends. "We just got ourselves another powerful mage."

We went back to Leiana's estate after the party. We would have to meet Sera, but that was tomorrow night, not tonight. Emma, nearly dead on her feet mumbled an exhausted, "Good night." To everyone before stumbling off to bed.

Varric, ever the writer, looked up at me. "I'm going to jot down some notes before heading to bed. Night." He wandered off to the study, presumably to snoop a little and write down whatever he was going to write down.

"I don't know about you," I said to Alistair, "but those cookies gave me the munchies."

He rubbed his stomach. "Do you think any of those strawberries they had when we arrived are still fresh?"

One of the servants, presumably woken by our arrival, came out wearing a nightgown and robe and looking rumpled by sleep.. "Forgive me madam, sir, I was-"

"Elyria and Alistair, and go back to bed. We'll find our own food."

The man looked at us strangely for a moment. "If you would tell me what you'd like I could fetch it for you."

"Or you could go back to bed, and we'll find it ourselves."

Alistair walked forward, and maneuvered the poor man back toward the servant's quarter doors. "We won't destroy the kitchens. I promise."

I went towards where I believed the kitchens were. Right on the money. I opened the cabinets without disturbing anything. "Where do you think they keep the snacks?"

He shook his head. "I've no idea."

It took us a few moments, but we did end up finding a decent sized plate. Then we located the strawberries, of which were many. A few slices of wheat bread and some cinnamon, sugar and butter. Alistair watched fascinated as I mashed the cinnamon, sugar and butter together until they were almost the consistency of something you'd get at Texas Roadhouse. The sugar here was more coarse and the cinnamon less refined, but when I toasted the bread quickly over the fire and spread on the bread, Alistair groaned with the first bite.

"That's good." He said around a mouthful of bread.

"I know. Don't eat it all!" I smacked his grubby paw. "Grab some nuts and let's go." Most of the food made it back to the room.

As Leliana's estate did not have many guest rooms, she'd given her servants permission to put me and Alistair in her room. Boulette and Schmooples II didn't mind having a pair of roommates. Instead, when we entered they began with their little nug squeaks and climbed down the tiny set of stairs built into their raised sleeping area.

Picking them up individually the way the servants had shown me earlier, I deposited each one on the bed and sliced strawberries in half for each. With thankful squeaks they nibbled as we did.

"Do you think he'll still be there when we get back?" I asked, unwilling to say who 'he' was.

"Of course he will be." Alistair told me around a mouth full of bread and butter.

"Gross, chew your food."

Instead he opened his mouth wider. We polished off the food and got ready for bed. It was well past first bell but I'd had to take off the bit of makeup I'd put on and comb out the plaits Leiliana's servants had put in.

Boulette snuffled my right hand with her tiny snout. Ugh. I love her and I've known her less than a day. Schmooples II had less of an interest in me however. He practically plonked on Alistair's chest and could not be bothered to get up. I rubbed Boulette's snout bridge and eye ridges making her do that almost purring nug sound. "They're so cute."

Alistair, rubbing Schmooples II eliciting droopy eyelids that matched his own. "Remember how big Schmooples was?"

"Remember how Oghren used to threaten to eat him?"

"And Leliana warning him, if he did she'd break him in half?"

We both laughed tiredly. I gathered up Schmooples II when Alistair snored for a couple of minutes. I hadn't expected him to go to sleep so quickly. Once the two nugs were back in their respective beds with water bowls full, I turned around to find Alistair awake again.

He was blinking at me, gripping the sheet with white knuckles, his breathing a little heavier. I gave him a questioning look. "I had one of those dreams where you're falling and you can't stop."

"You weren't asleep long enough to dream." I told him softly. I grabbed his pack and brought it over. "Take a sip of the draught."

He didn't argue. He grabbed it and took a mouthful then swallowed with a grimace. "There has to be something that tastes better."

"Besides extreme exercise or rigorus sex, no."

"Ellie!" He flushed red, averting his eyes.

"What? Sex wears you out. I'm just saying Al." Wait a sec. "Are you still a virgin?"

"No." He glowered, eyes still averted. "There was a barmaid."

Aww. "Was she sweet and let you take your time?"

His blush darkened. "Mayhap."

"And did you like it?"

"How do people not spend all their time doing that once they've found a partner?"

"So that's a yes?"

"Maker, Ellie…yes. It was nice."

I patted his arm gently. "Good.

"Or maybe, instead of meaningless sex." Alistair adjusted the down pillow behind his head, "A better way to get myself to the point of exhaustion and passing out."

"I'm working on it. Just hold on, okay?"

He gave me a warm, if tired smile. "Always. For you."

I snuffed out the candle by the bed and climbed in. I think he was snoring before I was.

The next day was mostly exploring and shopping. I won't go into details beyond saying I spent a decent chunk of change on some bolts of cloth and food we couldn't get in Ferelden. It would be delivered to Leliana's estate and then would travel back with us. Solas assured me a continuous cold spell would keep the food fresh and he had no issue keeping the spell up.

We eventually went back to the estate for respective rest time before having to meet Sera. At ten bells we were all dressed and ready to go again. It would take about forty five minutes to travel to the part of the city that was technically no longer Val Royeaux and more a suburb of the city. The city, much like a good deal of New York, didn't sleep at this time of night. The more opulent residences were still lit. There was music from at least ten of them as we passed.

Guards paid us no mind. Either they didn't care or they were no longer interested in the Inquisition. I'd insisted Emma stay behind because this mission was actually dangerous. The wrought iron gates to the alleyway were closed but unlocked. I pushed them open slowly so that the metal didn't screech. After motioning for everyone to stay put for a moment, I dropped nearly to the floor and crab walked to the edge of the wall to confirm the layout.

"Varric," I nearly whispered his name. "When I say fire, drop an exploding shot at the crates by the stairs, okay?"

He readied Bianca. "Follow up with a volley?"

"No, too close quarters. Just power shots after."

"Solas," the elf took a quiet step toward me. I pointed at the open space between us and the crates. "Frost trap."

"As you say." He lifted his staff and with a flourish, a soft white glow formed on the ground.

"Cassandra you go left, Al, you go right. There's a door up those steps on the right Al."

Cassandra gave me that assessing look again. "And what will you be doing?"

I pulled my dagger. "Going after the guy hiding behind the crates."

"You saw someone hiding?" She asked softly.

"No, but Murphy's law. Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong with frequency. I'm just making sure I take care of the problem before it emerges."

It didn't take long, and we were looting bodies in minutes. The houses that emptied out into this alley way either were used to this kind of chaos or they were too scared to look. Either way, we climbed the stairs and went for the door.

I motioned everyone out of the way and pushed one of the large heavy blue doors open with a foot. Bam. The firebolt passed about five inches from my face. I could feel the heat of it on my nose and forehead as it went by. I peeked in and another one went just over my head.

"Herald of Andraste!" The mage, who was not dressed like a mage, said. "How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!"

I motioned for the others to follow. "Nothing. Not a single penny."

"You don't fool me!" These Orlesians and their exclamations. "I'm too important for this to be an accident! My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere!"

Seriously. I have no effing clue who this guy was.

The single guard with him, and yes this was a guard not a bodyguard, grunted as a blonde in red and yellow put an arrow somewhere important. The guard went down. The mage that presumed we knew who he was gave a rather inelegant, "eh?"

Sera, looking kind of badass, said her line. "Just say 'what'!"

"What is the-"

Right through his left eyeball. I mean, like right through it. I even vaguely heard a squish and a pop. Ugh. Gross. Gag.

"Squishy one, but you heard me, right? 'Just say 'what'.' Rich tits always try for more than they deserve." She kicked his shoe then went for her arrow. It made another squishing wet pop as it came out. "Blah, blah, blah! Obey me! Arrow in my face!"

Still with the exclamations.

"So, you followed the notes well enough. Glad to see you're...I thought you'd be taller." She brought up her hand and measured our heights. Turns out, even though we were pretty much eye to eye, she had about half an inch on me. "I mean, it's all good, innit? The important thing is: you glow? You're the Herald thingy?"

I liked her already. I took off my left glove and showed her my hand. "Yes, I glow a little. Bright green."

She got all grabby with my hand and moved it around to examine at all angles she could achieve with my arm still being attached to me. "Right, right. That's a big crack." Then she howled with laughter. "Crack, get it?"

I didn't.

"Nah, name's Sera." She motioned to the crates. "This is cover. Get 'round it."

I gave a very pointed look at Cassandra. "Crates."

She gave me one raised eyebrow in return.

"Come on, the reinforcements. Don't worry. Someone tipped me their equipment shed." Sera went on as she practically dragged me behind cover. She grinned like a mad woman. "They've got no breeches."

She was right. They really didn't.

Imagine fighting a half dozen men, in top armor with their bottom small clothes. If I hadn't been putting a sword into a few of them I might have laughed harder. I wiped my sword on one of the dead men once the fighting was done.

"Friends really came through with that tip. No breeches!" Then she laughed all crazy like again. "So, Herald of Andraste. You're a strange one. I'd like to join."

"Just to be clear, because I've done Red Jenny work before, if you join, will we have access to the Red Jenny network?"

"You did? You have?" She leaned in, "When? Who? Where?"

"A small red box. Completely sealed. Denerim about ten years ago. A silent person who only stuck their hand through, paid the person I helped deliver it with and closed the door in our faces."

"Huh. Denerim. Don't know them, but someone will. So is that a yes?"

"I don't know, is it a yes?"

She grinned. "Yeah, that's a yes."


	10. Chapter 10

Sara Hartman - Monster Lead Me Home

Serena Ryder - Got Your Number

lovelytheband - Maybe I'm Afraid

OneRepublic - Rescue Me

Taylor Swift - ...Ready For It?

Lorde - Team

* * *

Chapter 10:

Krem is so goddamn adorable. I wanted to pinch his cheeks and tell him he was the cutest person ever. I'm getting ahead of myself, but seriously. Krem is like Alistair level adorable, and a moderate level of badass combined with puppy dog eyes. Just. Ugh.

But again, getting ahead of myself.

Josephine sent a letter with one of Leliana's scouts that reached us about two days before we returned to Haven. With Krem in tow. And there may have been a letter from the King of Orzammar.

Good news first.

The city elves came in droves, volunteering to fight or learn to fight on behalf of the Inquisition. Shianni came through with flying colors. Cullen had his men training most of them, while Leliana had taken a select few for her ranks.

The Dalish were fewer in number, around seven volunteers. Leliana brought them into her ranks of spies and scouts before Cullen even took a look at the volunteers.

Behlen's letter was mostly pomp and circumstance that boiled down to a few main points. Yes he was aware of the rifts. No, he didn't have men to spare as he needed them to patrol. He asked for volunteers among the houses and people. The Legion sent who they could spare and a few houses sent some of their available - read disposable - sons. If we closed the rift permanently, he would send more troops. I respected he was being a decent king. I didn't respect using fratricide and patricide to get there. He would never be a trustworthy ally.

The bad news was several scouts had gone missing, and a patrol following a lead. Christ I missed cell phones. All twelve pages of writing could have come down to a single twenty minute phone call.

I settled for one page of directives. Pull the scouts back. Patrols go in larger groups and stick closer to the borders of Haven. More torches. Light up the night. Don't put our men and women at risk. Period.

In game, later when Corypheus attacks, we're supposed to lose half our forces because we're unprepared. Well I say fuck that sideways with a chainsaw. I'll be damned if I get caught unaware. I know what's coming, I know how to fight it. We're going to fight it even if I have to lead the goddamn charge!

I handed the twelve page letter from Josie to Cassandra after I finished with my response. "Any words of wisdom?"

"Josephine," Cassandra grumbled as her dark eyes went over page by page. I left her to it and handed the runner my response. No doubt she would write back as well.

Now then, Krem. Alistair was in the middle of handing Krem a bowl of whatever it was he was cooking. Kind of smelled like stew. God I hope it isn't gray. Nettie had been trying to break him of cooking everything until it was a uniform gray color and when I'd left Thedas, her influence had been working.

One of the soldiers brought down a ram earlier and there were potatoes available from a nearby farm. I forgot how resourceful you had to be on the road, but our soldiers were proving their worth with flying colors. Alistair handed me a bowl.

"Thank you," The stone bowl was hot to the touch, but not uncomfortably so with the cold air of mid-fall Ferelden pressing in around us. Winter would be hitting us hard in a few weeks. "Where's Em?"

"Sleeping." Solas said as he too approached the fire. "She is not used to this much travel. Emmaline has a great many pains and blisters. I've given her some of your sleeping draught Alistair. If that is alright?" The nurse let the mage go healer on her. Interesting.

Alistair shrugged. "We'll be back in Haven in a few days. I can always ask Adan for more."

Mental note, get more royal elfroot and elfroot in general. The basic ingredient to any good potion, elfroot or spindleweed. "Let's make sure there's enough stew left for her."

Krem, looking a bit out of place in all that heavy armor, held his bowl awkwardly. Like I said, he's that level of Alistair adorable with big brown eyes and clipped hair. He's younger than me, than most of us here. I'm almost thirty - Jesus - and Alistiar I'm fairly sure is over thirty if only a year or two. Cassandra is around my age and well, Solas is the dread wolf so who knows how old he is.

"You're Krem?" I nodded my head at a sideways log being used as a bench.

He took my nod as an indication to sit and we both sat down, him turned a little toward me so we could talk face to face. I'm so very, very glad Fenris didn't come with us. The minute this poor kid opened his mouth his Tevinter accent came pouring out. There would have been blood and a small riot if Fenris were here. Thankfully, he wasn't.

Krem wiped a bit of stew from the corner of his mouth, swallowing before, "Cremisius Aclassi, with the Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company, ma'am."

Ouch. He called me ma'am. "You can call me Elyria. The human eating machine over there is Alistair, the grumpy bald elf is Solas, the snarky short one is Varric, the pretty feisty one that went to bed is Emma and the one that can beat us both into the ground over there is Cassandra."

Nods all around.

"Good to meet you Krem." Alistair managed to say around a mouth full of bread and stew.

"Chew and swallow your food Cheesy, or I'm telling Leandra on you next time I write her." Varric grumped at him.

Alistair, if at all possible, chewed more obnoxiously.

The corners of Krem's eyes crinkled. "Good to meet you all."

"So Josie sent you on to meet us."

He nodded, "She said it was best before someone named," his brow creased for a moment, deep furrows formed, "I believe it started with an F? She said he wasn't partial to the people of Tevinter and asked me to join the scout to meet you."

"Fenris." Alistair's eyes met mine in the firelight.

See, right there is why I love Josephine. Always on her toes that one. "We're happy to have you with us. We are heading back to Haven though. I have to drop some people off and pick some people up." And Sera was supposedly only a day behind us. Vivenne would be a day or two later no doubt.

"Right." Krem took on a much more business like tone. "The Chargers mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra. We got word of some Tevinter Mercenaries gathering out on the Storm Coast. My company commander, Iron Bull, offers the information free of charge."

Varric whistled. "I hate to see what his other information might cost us."

I shot him a dirty look. "Quiet you. I distinctly remember you hustling Hawke the first time you two met."

The dwarf pointed his spoon at me, dripping gravy into the grass. "After I saved his coin purse."

"And cheating me out of how much gold at Wicked Grace?" Alistair added.

"That's your own fault Cheesy. You're just too gullible. Never, ever believe a dwarf when playing for money. You still owe me twenty silver by the way."

Krem laughed a little covering his mouth with the back of his hand so not to show everyone the food in his mouth. Well someone taught him manners.

"If you think they're funny now," I told him in a low murmur, "just wait until you guys join up. You'll be laughing your small clothes off inside a week."

Krem turned dark eyes on me, full of mirth. "They're always like that?"

"Like my two younger brothers I didn't want and didn't ask for." I grabbed a stone off the ground and chucked it between the two effectively quieting their snarking. "Shut it, both of you. I'm making a deal with the man." My attention back on Krem, "You should stay the night and head out in the morning. We should be back in Haven by day after tomorrow then on the Storm Coast by the start of next week."

"Thank you ma-" He must have caught my wince. "Sorry, Elyria."

I patted his shoulder. "I hate formalities. Ellie, Elyria or when you're mad at me _bitch what the shit_."

He laughed again. "Bull's going to enjoy getting to know you."

I winked at him. "Most people do."

Most of the soldiers were getting used to how I did things. Like going to bed with a certain oversized teddy bear of a man. Alistair, stripped down to his heavier clothing - because it was really damn cold in Ferelden at this time of year - and stretched out on the bedroll next to mine. He hadn't taken the sleeping draught yet, instead stared up at the burlap tent's maroon ceiling.

"Do you think you should be taking on the Chargers?" He asked quietly.

I, in the middle of folding some of my armor down to set aside, paused. "Do you think I shouldn't be?"

The fingers of one hand drummed on his stomach. "I'm not sure. Krem seems an alright person. But mercenaries."

I nudged him with the heel of one foot. "We were mercs once too."

"And bakers," he caught my leg in his hand around my ankle and pressed on that ever present knot between my calf and my knee. "Ellie, that's not what I mean. We had loyalty to Hawke, to doing the right thing."

Man I forgot how good he was at getting rid of the sore muscles in my legs. I let him have at it. I could never get the soreness from trekking and fighting to go down the way he could. "We'll steer them in the right direction even if Josephine has to pay them an arm and a leg. At least they'll be our allies."

Alistair hmmed to himself thinking about it as he let my leg go. "There are other things I worry about too."

"Like?" I held out the draught to him which he took.

"Like the rumor amongst the soldiers is that we're lovers."

I rolled my eyes heavenward. "The sleeping together throws everyone off. Everyone." Varric thinks I don't know about that bet he had going with Isabella about when Alistair and I would actually make the beast with two backs. "Besides, if you and I were playing hide the sausage, they'd know. I'm loud."

He turned his attention to me. "No you aren't."

"Oh yes I am." I gave him one raised eyebrow. "How would you know? We've never fooled around."

Alistair blushed in the dark averting his eyes. "Ellie."

"We haven't. So how would you know?"

Flustered he waved his hands around a bit at me. "You know, back then, back when you were, you know, with _him_."

Ah, the him that we shall not name. I sighed, stretching out next to him, propping my head up on one hand. "He used to cover my mouth, or ask me to be quiet before we got started." I should have known then he was a major asshole. "You liked making the barmaid moan, right?"

Even more blushing. "Mayhap. This isn't about _me_." A thought crossed his face, "Is that why you would always fight? Every month I remember a fight."

Ah. That. I picked at a balding spot on my bed roll. "He wanted to get me pregnant. Keep his family line in tact or some shit like that. I refused to share his bed when I was around the time of month that I could have gotten pregnant and Morrigan made me this thing she called moontea for the weeks between. Just in case."

Alistair rolled over to face me. "That's why you fought? Because he wouldn't pull out of you?"

I blinked at him. For someone who full on blushed when I talked about loud sex, that was a pont blank question. Completely without blinking or shying away. "Yes."

"You should have broken more than his nose." Alistair said in disgust. "That bastard." He slammed one fist down on the bedroll between us. "If I ever, ever see him again-"

I reached over and took his hand, soothing the fist until our fingers were laced. "You'll do nothing. He's consort to the Queen and the Warden commander of Ferelden."

"I'll slam my shield into his face and break his teeth." Alistair said hotly, "Damn his titles."

"Hey," I squeezed his hand in mine, " There's no baby on board okay? Never was. Never even missed a period. We're good and I've moved on."

He let go of a breath. "I cannot believe I ever respected him. Ever."

"What was her name, the barmaid?" Smooth change of subject there El.

"Ana." Alistair said after a moment, "her name was Ana."

I wanted to make a terrible joke about Frozen but I didn't. He looked both sad and serious at the same time. And a little embarrassed. I reached over and flicked the tip of his nose. "Hey, you're one of the good ones, you know that right?"

Hazel eyes met mine sadly. "Am I?"

"I'd put ten crowns on you writing Ana a few months after to ask if she might be pregnant."

He turned red again, averting his eyes in favor of looking upward again. "Mayhap."

Uh huh. "And you offered to come back if she was."

He glowered in the dark. "Of course I did. I'm a bastard by birth not by nature."

I went to flick his nose again, getting batted away. "Like I said, you're one of the good ones. You probably had this long speech for Hawke about how you had to leave. You had this long speech for Ana about how you two could make a go of it. Promised to be there for everything, right?"

This time he reached over and tapped my nose. "And this is why you're my best friend. I like Fenris, I do. He's a good man when he's not being a complete moron. But he'll never be you."

I shrugged finally lying back on my own bedroll and sighed. "Yeah. I'm original like that." I was halfway to dreamland when he said something else my brain couldn't fully understand.

Due to another bloody snow squall we were held up another half day. By the time we reached Haven early morning three days later, I was already telling Alistair and Solas to be ready to go by mid-morning. "Take a nap, take a bath and be out here by half past twelve bells. We'll eat on the road." I was gambling on Sera getting there by then. One of the scouts said there was a blonde woman on a horse about a half day behind us when he reported to me that morning before we set out. If she didn't Varric was going to give me shit for not letting him get his beauty sleep.

We needed to haul ass to the Storm Coast. Recruiting Bull and the Chargers needed to happen as soon as possible. The Inquisition needed the troops and I needed Bull for my plans to screw Corypheus sideways.

"What about me?" Emma yawned from atop Bilbo.

"You're staying here."

"Mmm, kay." Poor girl. She yawned again and shook herself.

I had them all get up at the ass crack of dawn to reach Haven with time enough for us to leave. Cassandra was the only one who didn't grumble or grump at me that morning.

"Ellie," Alistair whined. "Can't we leave tomorrow?"

"Ellie," I parroted, "can't we leave tomorrow and add another day to our travels?"

He scowled in return. "I hate you."

"Lies."

* * *

I needed a bath, and food and a nap. In that order. Not that it happened that way. Inside of the handful of minutes after handing Boggie off to a moderately terrified looking stable hand - I mean, I get it, Boggie is scary, but she's actually a very well behaved horse - I was assaulted by both Leliana and Josie talking very quickly and loudly at me. "Ladies, ladies," I told them, dragging off my gloves, "one at a time. I only have two ears and a crappy attention span." I pointed at Leliana. "You first, I've known you longer."

"Your recommendation to pull the scouts back," Leliana began, sounding very irritated with me.

"Not a recommendation," I told her as we headed past the troops, "pull the scouts back. Today. If you think for one second what we're hunting isn't looking to hunt us in return, you're out of your pretty head. You're not going to lose more men and women."

"Elyria, the loss of a few scouts-"

"Our people are not cannon fodder!" My voice may have been too loud. Some of the soldiers nearby paused in their training. Sigh. "Listen, I understand, you want to cover our ass. I get it. I want our people alive. The more we stack the deck in our defense, the better off we'll be. Pull. Them. Back."

"You lot," the familiar voice of a white haired, tattooed elf cut clear across the training field to my ears. My heart gave a painful pang of regret and sadness at the same time that it squeezed. "Did someone tell you to stop?"

"Uh, no, sir." One of the men shifted and shot me and the ladies a look. "We just…um."

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest. "In battle, um will get you killed. Back to drills." Green eyes crossed the distance, and for a second I thought, just for a second, I thought I saw him look relieved. It was gone the second he turned away and headed toward Cullen's tent. "These-" he began and his words were cut off by the flap of the tent dropping behind him.

He stayed. He told me he was going to leave and he didn't. He stayed.

"He has been working with Cullen training the troops." Josie told me, following my gaze. "Fenris is quite...intense."

I tried not to smile sadly, "You don't know the half of it." I did. And I loved being on the receiving end of his extraordinarily profound heart. When I knew he loved me, I felt like I could face anything with him.

Leliana too looked on to where Cullen's tent was. "He is also fond of wine."

Eyeing her suspiciously. "Did you get my ex boyfriend drunk?"

She gave me that knowing look. "Drunk, no. Loosened his tongue and temper, yes." Leliana shrugged a little. "You wrote that he enjoyed fine wine in questionable quantities. I may have had Josie procure a few bottles of the 9:28 Nevarran Syrah and approached him after he'd been in the tavern for a couple of hours."

Josie, looking quite proud of herself, "An excellent vintage. A pity it took nearly four full bottles. His stomach is either indestructible or well marinated."

"Cullen spoke to him, offered him a position within the Inquisition's ranks." Leliana continued looking a little smug about it.

My friends. Got my ex boyfriend drunk. To talk him into staying.

"You two," I turned heading through the gates of Haven, "really scare me. Like a lot."


	11. Chapter 11

Behind Closed Doors - Rise Against

Remain Nameless - Florence & The Machine

Flesh - Simon Curtis

Drive - Melissa Ferrick

Animals - Neon Trees

The Greatest Show - Panic! At the Disco (Cover)

* * *

Chapter 11:

I do not like the goddamn storm effing coast. Do you hear me universe? Do you? Do you hear me? Oh my god, the humidity. What the shit? This is almost like that time I went to Miami as a kid. The sticky, grimy, _ugh _feeling wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that it had been raining on us for _nearly two days straight_.

"Your worship." Scout Harding greeted us before I ever got off Boggie. Well, that was better than Herald I guess. "For what it's worth; Welcome to the Storm Coast. I would have sent word sooner but our efforts have been… delayed."

"Delayed," Alistair said, "by what?"

I elbowed him. "Why don't I introduce you to our newest members first before we start asking questions. Scout Harding, this is Alistair Theirin, former Gray Warden, good friend of mine for many years. The blonde one is Sera, gifted with the ability to wreak havoc with a bow," at which Sera mock saluted,  
"and you've met Solas."

Harding nodded to them all. "Good to meet you. Solas, good to see you again."

"And you Scout Harding." He replied much too cheerily for my liking.

"Delayed by a group of bandits." Harding went ahead and answered Alistair's question. "They're operating in the area. They know the terrain and our small party has had trouble going up against them. Some of our soldiers went to speak with their leader. Haven't heard back, though."

"When shit hits, it just flings everywhere doesn't it?" I said flipping up my collar in an attempt to block out the rain. It didn't work very well.

Scout Harding gave me a small chuckle. "It does ma'am." She walked with us to the edge of the camp. "The soldiers didn't have an exact location for the bandits, but they were starting their search father down the beach. With all this fuss, we haven't been able to conduct a proper search for the wardens either." She sighed and looked out toward the water. "Well, good luck and enjoy the sea air." She smiled at me, "I hear it's good for the soul."

In the distance the dragon out on that island that is a bitch to get to circled and cried out.

Sera, getting all excited, ran to the edge of the cliff and knocked some decently sized pebbles off in the process. "Is that a real dragon?"

"Bigger or smaller than that one guarding the ashes?" I asked Alistair.

He gave it a good hard look as it circled in the air a couple of times. "Can't tell from here."

Sera turned around, much too excited about the prospect of dragons. "We're going to get closer?"

"Maybe. Depends on how fast we deal with the bandits, find the wardens and meet with the Chargers." Water dripped down my face, running in rivulets down my clothing. Inside my clothing. Ugh. "Christ I hate this place and we've been here all of ten fucking minutes."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it was that bad." Solas had the audacity to breathe in deeply and smile like he was enjoying himself. "Sea air is supposed to be invigorating, is it not?"

I raised one finger to him. Yes, that finger. "Solas, I like you, so I'm going to give you one warning. Keep up with this cheery shit and see how hard I backhand you."

Sera guffawed at that.

Alistair gave him an apologetic look. "Ellie gets moody when she hasn't seen the sun in a couple of days."

"It's called seasonal depression." I yelled back as I began to trudge down the side of the hill. "Now move your asses, I want this day over with!"

Sera, being Sera, slid down the hillside a trail of loose gravel and a few slightly bigger rocks following her down. She whooped as she pushed off against one jutting out rock and attempted a superhero landing. Not quite a perfect ten, but damn close. Seven point five, maybe eight if I was being generous.

I applauded as she landed about five feet from me, one knee in the dirt the other catching her weight in a crouch. "Nice."

"Oof, my knees." She rubbed her left knee, the one that caught her weight.

"Yeah, you're not sixteen anymore, your body won't just bounce back."

"Oi, you calling me old?"

"Sera, I'm nearly thirty, I'm _older_ than you."

"You're a young almost thirty." She threw her left arm around my shoulder and bumped my hip with hers. "Come on slow pokes! The Herald wants her porridge and a nap!"

I would have scowled but food and a nap sounded great at this point.

Alistair and Solas took a moment longer. Alistair because his armor was throwing him off balance and Solas because, well, he's Solas. He strolls.

Then I remembered the skull back up there near camp. You know what. I'd get it later in the evening before bed so that if it did give me vertigo, I would be able to close my eyes and lie down afterward. I hate those skulls. I think I hate them more than I hate the Storm Coast.

We covered about two hundred feet before reaching the actual coast, and hearing the sounds of fighting pick up. There would be the Chargers and Iron Bull. We ran that last seventy or so feet to the shore. It was a shame Fenris was still too angry with me to come. He would have loved redirecting all that pent up pissed off energy into putting his hand through the chests of Tevinters.

* * *

Emma grunted curled up in a ball under the comforter in her bed, attempting to read one of the horror novels she downloaded for free from Amazon before she left. This place, Thedas, practically shouted horror movie setting. That forest surrounding the pass she couldn't remember the name of reminded her of something out of a ghost story.

Outside some of the soldiers were annoyingly drunk, and singing a bizarre, throaty song that definitely wasn't in any form or English/Common that she knew. Ellie said they spoke Spanish here, but it was called Antivan, and she was pretty sure Cassandra's accent was something germanic. This however, whatever that shit was, was neither.

Right about the time that the girl in the book realized that there was something sitting on her bed and things were getting to a nice level of creepy, some asshole outside hollered something. Okay. That's it. Enough playing nice. Ellie left her behind because apparently there was a dragon and giants and stuff, but right now - grr. Emma shoved up out of bed and dropped her kindle without powering off on the pillow. She stomped to the door, pulled the lock, threw it open and nearly walked straight into spiky black armor and a white haired elf.

"Oh shit-" she caught herself before slamming into him. It took her a second to assess. His fist lowered like he'd been about to knock. "What are _you_ doing here?" She almost called him Grumpy, but that would have just been rude to dwarves named Grumpy. There were a lot of dwarves around here. Maybe one was named Grumpy.

Fenris eyed her carefully. "Do you know me?"

"Yeah," Emma crossed her arms over her chest, "you're the jackass my best friend was in love with for some ridiculous reason."

Alistair was Elyria's best friend. Taking the second to process that left him missing part of Emma's rant.

"And you, by the way, _dick_, are seventy five percent of the reason she even came back to this shitshow. Do you think, for one second, that she wants to be the damn Herald of Andraste? No. She wanted to be with the guy she loves, you, and her other buddy, the human teddy bear. And you can't cut her some slack? You suck on a whole different level of _suck_. How you managed to get Ellie to fall for you, I don't know. Elvish weirdness or magic or some shit like that." Emma stalked over to the desk and dragged out the hefty unedited tomb of paper she spent most of the last three days reading since they'd returned from the Thedas version of France. "You know how much of her book is dedicated to telling the world how much she loves you?" She grabbed a large section of paper. "Like this much. It's two hundred and sixteen pages back to back and you take up this much. That's a lot of goddamn real estate devoted to your skinny, ungrateful, _flat_, ass!"

She huffed. That was a lot of breath in one go. Emma shoved the book into his hands. "Read it, and I know you can because bitch - she taught you. And do me a favor, when you're done, and you're mea culping on your knees - remember Ellie deserves someone _**better **_than you." Emma, with a smile she hoped conveyed a fuck you, slammed the door in his face.

Oh damn. She forgot to yell at those loud bozos. She flipped the lock again just incase skinny with a case of bad temper decided to bug her again. Then she went to the window, threw open the shutters, pushed up the glass pane and yelled, "Assholes, if you don't shut your mouths I'm going to write the Herald and let her know she has some asses to kick. You want to face her?"

There was a bunch of drunken hushing, a 'sorry' called in her direction. She settled down with her kindle once more, which thankfully had not gone to sleep yet and pulled the covers back over her head. It only occurred to her, while the presence in the girl's room was making the floorboards creak and groan that she hadn't asked the elf what he wanted.

What Fenris wanted, was to finally speak to Elyria. As he stood on the cold stone outside the darkened cabin, slightly stunned that someone he didn't know gave him such a tongue lashing, and confused as to who she was, he held the book. That was a lot to process, as Alistair would have said.

He looked down at the hefty stack of paper in his hands. He remembered her writing this. Always working on it when she had a few moments. He'd walk into her flat and she would be scribbling at the dining table, look up at him and smile.

He missed the way she smiled at him. He missed the way it made him feel to know she was smiling at him. For him, because he made her happy. The hollow ache in his chest where he loved her reminded him once more with a throb that it wasn't healed. An old scab that still bled into his soul.

Fenris checked around the camp, looking for a familiar head of blonde hair now colored with fading shades of green and purple. When he didn't find her, he looked for Alistair. When he didn't find Alistair, he went in search of Varric. The dwarf he found sitting at table in the tavern across from another dwarf with graying bright red hair, and rank ale breath.

"We called him pike-twirler. Always twirling his," burp, "pike." Oghren, though Fenris had no idea this was the same Oghren that fought the Blight, grumbled. "Who're you?" The dwarf slurred at Fenris.

Fenris ignored him. "Varric, have you seen-"

"This is Ogrhen. As in, **the** Oghren." Varric said scribbling as fast as his fingers and the quill he had would allow. "Can you believe it?"

"Have you seen Elyria?" Fenris asked impatiently.

Varric didn't even look up. "She left about three days ago."

A crease formed between Fenris' eyes as his brow scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean she left? They returned from Val Royeaux three days ago." He saw her standing with the red haired assassin and the Antivan diplomat.

Varric sighed and put down his quill, mentally filing this moment away for later. "Are you joking? You've been broodier than usual, downright pissy, and you're wondering **why** she would avoid coming back here? She. Left. With Alistair, Solas and Sera. They went up to the Storm Coast to recruit some guy they call the Iron Bull. They'll be back in a week." Varric waved him off. "Go away. I'm busy." He picked up the quill again. "Tell me more about Alistair." Varric said to Oghren.

The other dwarf grinned drunkenly. "He's a bastard!"

Fenris, irritated, left the tavern before he put his fist through something living. The stone golem that arrived the day before, stood stock still as he passed it. The thing unnerved him, but he would never say it aloud. He made his way back to his tent, sat down cross legged, lit a tallow candle and opened the book to the first page.

Fenris read approximately sixty five pages before his eyes began to cross and water. She saved the abomination's life. He'd always known it. He heard it enough times whenever the abomination attempted to have, what Elyria and Alistair called 'a hissy fit' over being smited. They saved his life. Did he want them to correct the situation? Typically, after that, the abomination would quiet down to a low grumble.

The candle had gone down quite a bit, and now that he rubbed his eyes and cracked both his neck and back, he honestly couldn't remember the last bell that rang. Or if he ate. He blew out the candle, and shifted to lean over and pull aside the heavy drape of the entrance to the tent. The blackness cut only by the stumble of drunk soldiers returning to their tent or on patrol and the lit torches spotting the walkways.

How long had he been reading? Long enough he supposed. He set the book aside, settled down on his bedroll. Fenris wasn't certain when he fell asleep only that he did sleep.

He woke up in bed without her. The spot where her head lay on the pillow next to him was only a little cool, still smelling of the rosehip soap and lavender body cream she was fond of. The bells of Kirkwall rang distantly five times. Fenris looked up at the crack in the whitewash paint of the ceiling, bathed in the bright light of sunrise. He sat up on his elbows, looking about for her. "Elyria?"

The door to her bedroom opened, and he took in a sight that burned itself into his memories. His woman dressed in his tunic, the hem of it hanging tantalizingly down around her upper thighs. She carried two steaming cups of tea. "Good morning sleepy head." She said it affectionately, smiling at him warmly.

He couldn't hide the faint happy glow coming from his scars. Not that he wanted to. Last night he'd lit up the room with her. She hadn't shyed away, whispering to him she thought he was beautiful. He pushed out of bed, taking both cups from her carefully. His sleeping pants catching on one errant nail at the edge of the bed.

They hadn't made love yet, but they were working on it.

He had to learn to enjoy being touched again. So far, as last night had proven, he was coming along nicely. Twice in fact. Three times for her. He set the cups down, turning to her to steal a kiss. Which she readily returned.

At some point, the tea now a separate and forgotten thought, they ended up back on the bed. Him on top, kneeling between her thighs, the hem of his shirt riding up past her small clothes. He was already hooking his fingers on the band, sliding them down. She made that sound she made last night, that throaty, low moan when he pressed fingers into her again. Two, she could take two. Three was too much. His long fingers curved upward inside her, finding that soft, almost spongy spot and stroking it. Her hips cleared the bed as she cursed loudly.

Fenris had a vague, more the ghost of a shadowy memory, that he'd done this before with someone. Though he could not remember them or when. It might have been a dream. It could have been. He thought not, as he rolled that little bundle of nerves in small circles and kissed her after making her beg him not to stop. He knew what to do and where to touch too well for it to be a dream.

Even in the throes of passion, she was careful how she touched him. One of her hands gripped at the headboard, fingers white, while the other pressed against his abdomen, where there were fewer scars. Her fingers flexed like she wanted to hold onto him, dig her nails in, pull him closer.

He wanted that too. Eventually.

Last night, when she invited him to stay she told him that trauma does something different to everyone. They'd work through it at his pace. He would decide when, where and how he wanted to be touched by her every step of the way. Take it slow. Then he tackled her into the bed, pinned her hands above her head and showed her how much he appreciated her willingness to wait.

Just like he was doing now.

Thank Andraste Alistair was away with Hawke and some of the others. He would have been awake all night being forced to listen to the two of them. Fenris had no doubt if the neighbors were not awake, they would be once he was done with her. If they had gotten any sleep last night at all.

Hearing Elyria moan his name, ask him not to stop, please, harder, more, oh god… he leaned back on his knees and, with the hand he'd been using to balance with on the bed, yanked the shirt up until her breasts were exposed. As Fenris found out, also last night, he truly enjoyed breasts. Soft, pillowy, moulding to his hands, lips, tongue...teeth.

He tugged one hardened peak with his teeth and she bucked against his hand. The sharp, "oh god, _Fenris_," that left her lips had him achingly hard. This is what it was like to love someone and derive pleasure from their pleasure. Watching her, one day being inside her - truly inside her not his fingers - it was a thought he could get used to.

One day, perhaps, there might be green eyed children running around.

The tea was cool by the time they got to it, and the biscuits warming by the fire were a bit crispy, but still good with butter and jam. He licked cinnamon and butter off her breasts much to her delight then they fell back into bed. Fenris found he enjoyed hands and lips on that achingly hard part of him. He could bury his fingers in her long hair, throw his head back and groan her name.

Elyria lay curled beside him, the sun now higher in the sky casting shadows in the room. Still careful in the way she touched him, her fingers traced slow, nonsensical patterns on his chest and stomach. "What does Amatus mean?"

Pressing his mouth against hers gently. "When did I say that?"

She blushed faintly, leaning in to kiss him back, her hand sliding lower, "I could remind you if you like." Cool fingers wrapped around him with a quick squeeze and stroke he was half at attention.

Taking her wrist, breathing out hard against her lips. "We need to be at the docks by twelve bells."

She hummed into the next kiss without letting his cock go. "Then you'd better tell me, or we're going to be late."

Damn the meeting, he guided her hand up and down the way he found he liked. His mind fogged with pleasure and he tugged her closer, their mouths and tongues meeting in another desperate kiss. He would never get tired of kissing her. She sighed when he tugged gently on one nipple, her legs parting just for him.

His fingers found her core again and the little bundle at the apex of her thighs that had her slippery wet for him.

They were only just on time for the meeting with Varric and the Captain. And they were very professional about it. Until they reached her flat again. They kept the neighbors up all night again.

Later, he blamed the dreaming (and the subsequent jerking off when he woke the next morning) on reading. Not that he didn't finish the entire book.

Because he did.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also the longest playlist I have ever used. Ever.
> 
> CRITTERS! Tell me if you find the easter egg. I want to know.

Sarah Hartman - Monster Lead Me Home

Fits and the Tantrums - The Walker

Set It Off - Why Worry

Critical Hit - No More Kings

OneRepublic - Wherever I Go

Taylor Swift - I Know Places

Selena Gomez - Bad Liar

Panic! At the Disco - Say Amen

Florence and the Machine - Remain Nameless

Yazoo - Only You

Fatboy Slim - Demons

lovelytheband - Maybe I'm Afriad

OneRepublic - Rescue Me

Blue October - Into the Ocean

* * *

Chapter 12:

The next day, Solas and I were the first ones up. I distinctly heard Sera attempting to out snore some of the troops. Alistair I'd left cuddled around some blankets and a pillow, snuffling like a puppy. Stiff and sore I attempted to stretch and nearly bellowed in agony when my back said NO. Solas, thankfully, was there before I woke the whole damn camp.

One hand going over the spot where the giant nailed me with his little toe the day before. "If you had asked me to heal this last night it would not be so painful this morning."

The soothing, cooling feeling of healing magic will never not feel good. "Well last night, I was pumped up on adrenaline and endorphins, I wasn't in pain yet." I rolled my shoulder where he healed me once the soothing feeling stopped. "You know, you use a lot more healing magic than my last few mage buddies that could heal."

"They, I am sure, were tower trained. I am self taught."

Why does such a lying liar have to be so damn likeable? "Uh huh. So, if I asked you to magic me up some bacon and eggs, you'd say?"

"I am not proficient with conjuration in that capacity." He dumped several handfuls of oats into a pot with some water over the low fire. "Though I might know of some wild figs if you'd like to go and pick them."

"Smart ass."

He simply grinned at me. "Half way down the path we took yesterday to come back up to camp. There were several ripe ones. If you please Herald."

I flipped him the bird, but couldn't help smiling too. I liked Solas. I did. I hated that next expansion he was probably the big bad someone would have to put down. Hopefully that someone wouldn't be **me**. I found the bush he was talking about. Or rather the cluster of bushes. I suppose it was late enough in the season. I grabbed all the ones that felt ripe enough and began making my way back to camp.

Sera and Solas were in the middle of some party banter. Ooo, I didn't miss it. She blew a raspberry at him, hands on her hips, nose wrinkled, eyes scrunched shut like a five year old.

He wore an expression that hung somewhere between did she just…? And no she did not just. "Excuse me?"

"Excuse yourself. What you said and I did, same difference to me." She even argued like a five year old.

Alistair looked mildly uncomfortable at the exchange. Alistair spotted me and gave me a desperate silent cry for help. I dodged around a couple of soldiers to arrive by the fire while Solas, well...Solas just dug that hole of his a little deeper.

"I'd hoped, well, our people can sometimes feel the rhythm of the language despite lacking the vocabulary."

"Uh huh? You know what else is good? Words that mean things. Like these." She got in his face and almost flicked his nose. "_Words._"

He drew back from her with a scowl. "Fenedhis lasa."

I snorted. See it was funny when I heard it in game. It was even better hearing it live. I nearly dropped the figs.

"What? What'd he say? What?" Sera asked immediately.

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck looking up at the sky. "Ellie speaks elvish."

"You!" Sera turned on me with a gawk, her jaw on the floor. "No. Why? No. Why?" She got in really close to me, "What did he say?"

I shook my head. "Nope. You want to know, you need to learn it."

"Ughhhh!" Pouting she stomped away like a five year old.

"You," Solas said quietly to me, once the food was ready and the figs were sliced to divide among us, "speak Elvish."

Alistair, having excellent hearing due to his own Elvish heritage, said, "Oh Ellie's full of surprises. This one time, we were in the Denerim and there was this guy who walked past us. He said something in Antivan that had Ellie so mad she punched him."

I shoved a spoonful of oatmeal in my mouth. I remembered that. I won't repeat what was said. It was gross and that dick deserved to be punched. "I speak enough Antivan to get by," I said, "and only because Zevran kept insisting I learn for when I finally realized he was a better lover than you know who."

"I have no idea why you put up with him. He was so," Alistair looked for the right word. "Obnoxious and cheesy."

"Pot, kettle, look it up."

"Are you saying I'm obnoxious?"

I reached across and thumbed away a crumb of bread from his chin. "But for some reason, I put up with you."

He grinned happily. "Because you love me."

I tapped his nose. "Maybe."

We spent the next two days doing all the stuff that we had to do on the Storm Coast. I'd sent the Chargers with Bull ahead to Haven to work payment terms out with Josie.

The rain eventually gave way to fog that rolled in like a blanket from the ocean on the third morning which was no better. It was still humid. Still sticky. Being out there in that felt constantly like something would be waiting to tap me on the shoulder and stick a dagger in my guts. The fog was so thick Solas lit up the tip of his staff so we would always be able to see where he was.

Honestly, I was so glad to leave by the end of the week.

The trek back was mostly uneventful with Sera taking pot shots at Solas once in a while and him not falling for it. We were blessedly dry by the day after leaving the coast so when we did finally reach Haven the frost didn't permeate our clothes. Last thing I wanted was the armor sticking uncomfortably in uncomfortable places.

"Come on, my tits are freezing off." Sera told us.

Alistair's ears turned pink. "Um…"

"Oi, where's the tavern?" Sera said to the first person she saw once inside the gate. They directed her and off she went.

"I don't know if I like her or not." Alistair said to me as we began to trudge up the stairs.

"I need a bath." I muttered to Alistair as we made our way from the stables. "I feel all the salt from the sea air crusting in places it should not be."

He took off his gloves and began pulling at the neck clasp of his armor. "I feel like I'm rusting."

"Reasons to wear hide armor instead of heavy."

"Uh huh, say that again next time I take a hit meant for you."

I gave him a playful punch on his arm. "Shut up wise ass."

"You always say the nicest things."

We were halfway up the stairs when the ground shook a little. I grabbed Alistair's arm at the same time he grabbed my shoulder. We looked at one another with mutual what the shit was that expressions. The ground seemed to shake a little again and nearly everyone else around us seemed to go with it.

What. The. Shit.

We reached the top of the stairs at the same time Shale jumped, once more making the ground shake. A small, and I do mean small, strawberry blonde haired dwarven boy clapped and giggled from her shoulder, holding onto her neck to brace himself. "Again!"

"I grow tired of this small one." Shale's gravely voice sounded as bored and annoyed as ever, but still she hopped up and down once more.

Someone here had kids? I was confused as hell for the couple of seconds it took me to find Felsi gripping herself tightly and watching the two with obvious apprehension. Oh. Oghren had a kid. Right. Which lead into, why in the name of Andraste and every other god listening did Oghren think it was a good idea to bring his wife (maybe?) and kid here?

Oh my fluffy baby jesus. Oghren was probably in the tavern. Where Sera just went. There was a loud crash from inside the tavern. I winced, Alistair winced and Felsi sighed. "Two crowns says that was Oghren."

"I'm not losing gold on it. I **know **that was Oghren." Alistair replied.

Sigh.

* * *

When they lived in Kirkwall nearly a decade ago now, finding Elyria had been as simple as walking to Low Town. She was in one of three places, the bakery, the Hanged Man or her flat. Kirkwall, in comparison to Haven, was essentially huge. Which is why Fenris found it so damn irritating that he could never actually find Elyria or Alistair.

He found the little black haired one who, once more, yelled at him to quote 'beat it d-bag'. As he'd learned from Elyria's book, this was Emma. The friend from Earth. He didn't need an explanation as to what a d-bag was, he felt her tone conveyed it well enough.

The way that he finally got to see Elyria was not the way he expected to see her. He was summoned to the Chantry with not one, but all of the others that had come to Haven. They all squeezed into the small room at the back of the chantry with its two large maps and bookcases. The Qunari was huge, but somehow, did not seem to even approach the height of the golem.

Shale. The golem was Shale.

In some unfathomable way they both managed to walk through the doorway without destroying the brick, mortar or woodwork. The Qunari sized up the golem who in turn, did the same.

The red haired dwarf nudged Varric and said something in a whisper that had the other dwarf snickering under his breath. Alistair stood firmly planted, arms crossed over his chest right next to Elyria. The woman in question stood with her arms crossed as well, examining the maps with deep furrows between her brows. "Is everyone here?" The authoritative tone in her voice wasn't something Fenris was used to hearing from her.

The Antivan woman that Fenris had met but never remembered the name of, did a quick head count, the feather of her quill bobbing as it went. "Yes Herald."

"Elyria," Elyria corrected absently. She always hated formalities.

"Yes Elyria," the Antivan woman corrected with a tone that said she was placating for now.

Elyria looked up, gazing at the red haired assassin, "And you're one hundred percent certain I can't have Zevran for this?"

He remembered an elf by that name. Was it the same person?

"It would take him nearly three weeks to arrive." The red haired woman said with a grimace. "I could send for him if you wish to put this off."

"No. We've waited long enough. This has to happen now."

"As you say, Elyria." The assassin inclined her head. This was the Leliana from the blight as he had also learned from Elyria's book. Now the left hand of the Divine and a leader of the Inquisition.

Elyria turned her attention to Alistair who bobbed his head and uncrossed his arms to lean on the table. His touched the marker over the Templar base. "The Templars are here, in Therinfal Redoubt."

Elyria placed her hand by the Hinterlands. "And the mages are here, in Redcliffe." She looked around at all of them, meeting gaze after gaze. Eyes the color of mint leaves fell on him and for a moment, she almost looked pained before it was gone and her gaze moved on. "The force behind this wants us to choose one side or the other. Many of you know me. A good deal of you don't. I'll say this for you. I don't put up with assholes trying to play both sides of the line."

She nodded at Alistair, "A group of you will go to the Templars. They're going to be under attack. Let me make myself clear; _I do not want any heros her_e. We're in it to win, but not at the loss of lives."

The red haired dwarf guffawed. "When'd you grow a pair?"

"When **I** managed to stay standing during that high dragon fight and your ass dropped like a bag of bricks." Fenris knew that vicious tone. It was the same one she used when she was taunting an attacker.

The dwarf, turning nearly as red as his hair, "I got back up."

"Once it was down." Alistair added with a glare.  
"Wait, wait," the Qunari said, "you fought a dragon?"

Elyria and Alistair turned twin expressions that said 'yes? and?'

"Okay," the Qunari said, head bobbing, a little more respectful in his tone. "You fought a dragon."

"Bull, you Lady Vivien, Alistair and Fenris will go to the Templars. Save who you can and _get out_. Period. If I so much as hear that one of you died in battle I will personally tear open the fade, grab your soul and drag it back to your body and kill you **myself**. Are we clear?"

"You got it boss," the Qunari, who must have been named Bull, said.

"Crass, dear," the dark skinned mage told her, "but understood."

Fenris simply nodded.

"Shale."

"The vengeful warrior requires my aid?" The golem's gravely voice seemed to echo despite the size and the number of people in the room.

"Leliana's scouts are being pulled. I'm not dumb enough to think that the ones we've lost are due to human error. Something is up there and _it is scouting us_. I need you up on this ridge." Elyria tapped a spot on the map near Haven's southern edge. "You bellow the loudest and you can take more than a few hits. I'm sending Sera with you. Sera," she addressed the blonde elf, "you stick to one job and one job only, you watch Shale's ass and I don't mean her bottom. You make sure her back is covered at all times. I want you both back here if you see anyone, and I do mean anyone that isn't Inquisition. I mean it. No heroes here. I want my people alive. Do you understand me?"

Sera gave a salute. "Yes ma'am." Though Fenris felt it was somewhat mocking, Elyria said nothing.

"It will be done, vengeful-"

"Elyria." Elyria corrected. "Just because I broke a man's nose once-"

"It bled profusely." The golem said with what could almost pass as appreciation. "I was entertained."

Elyria sighed. "I think you spent too much time around Sten."

The golem, if it was possible for a golem, harrumphed.

"What 'bout me?" The red haired dwarf asked.

"You, my smelly little buddy," the dwarf grinned at her with one front tooth missing, "I need teaching these troops how to handle a berserker. I want you to smack them around and remind them that fights can get dirty and ugly. Think you can do that? Especially the new ones. Remind them this is about to become a war. Anyone that can't cut it, you report to Cullen. He'll send them packing."

"Hehe, yeah, that I can do. I'll beat 'em 'til they're beggin' their momma's to make it stop."

"Then I am to go with you to the mages?" The bald elven mage asked.

"You, me, Cassandra and Varric. The original crew. That just leaves the rest of you." Elyria sighed, rubbing her neck and left shoulder with one hand. A move familiar to Fenris. Stress caused her tension headaches. The weight on her shoulders was no doubt heavier than he could imagine.

"I want Haven packed up and ready to go. The people should be on high alert while we're gone. Whatever took out the scouts in the hills knows we're here. We can't think for one moment it isn't the enemy. I want Haven and the people of Haven ready to go at a moments notice. Cullen, those trebuchets, I need them well oiled and loaded. Leliana, your scouts are to stick close to the borders and go in pairs. Sweeps three times a day. Bull, if you don't mind, I'd prefer some of your Chargers placed strategically, in shifts of course. They've probably seen more battles than most of our new recruits. The Legion of the Dead volunteers and the few elves we've received from the Dalish, outfit them and pair them up. I want a seasoned warrior with each new recruit. Around the clock patrols. We're not getting caught unaware."

She stared down solemnly at the maps before her. "Ladies, gentlemen and all those lacking defined gender specifications, if none of you have guessed it, we're coming to the end of this part of the game. Either we get checkmate or the other guy does. Let's make sure it's us."

The Qunari whistled low. "Damn. Make sure I never get on your bad side."

Elyria shook her head and with a small, tired laugh.

It made Fenris bristle to see Alistair's hand come down on her back and rub it from shoulder to shoulder. "Trust me, don't do that. She likes to break things and people when she's angry."

They were dismissed by Cullen, not by Elyria. Fenris watched her turn to the Antivan woman and begin discussing something in low tones. He would have waited to stay behind, but they walked out with Alistair in tow toward the Antivan's quarters without so much as glance at anyone else.

"Think their together?" The Qunari asked.

Fenris realized he and the Qunari, Bull, were all that were left in the room. "What?"

"The tall guy and and the boss. You think they're together?"

He was beginning to realize, he had no idea.

* * *

The mass of people getting on horses at the gate the next day was, to say the very least, laughable. I stood there watching Sera trying to mount Shale like a horse for a good two minutes before Shale began to stomp away. Sera ran after yelling wait, which of course, did not make Shale wait at all. Bull attempted to get on a horse, when the poor nag tried to bolt - he gave up and said he'd huff it.

I hated missing party banter between him and Vivienne, but alas, I could not be in two places at once. Alistair joined me, his pack over one shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to send Varric with them and I'll go with you?"

I looked up at him. "Is that what you want?"

Greenish-gold eyes met mine. "I'd rather go with you."

"Change of plans," I turned my head before I yelled out. "Cassandra, you're a Seeker, you might have a better way to get through to some of the templars. Would you be willing to switch places with Alistair?" Logically I didn't need two tanks. I only needed the one, and I trusted Alistair over any other tank hands down.

Cassandra, already on her horse and had been ready to go for at least a quarter of an hour said, "If you think it best." Her tone said she didn't think it was best.

"I think you're more valuable there than with me," and it was true. I had been planning to send her with them originally but Emma changed my mind. Blackwall wasn't a Grey Warden, and Alistair would know in seconds.

With resignation she said. "I will go, but only because you asked."

"Thank you," I turned to my best buddy. "Mount up, we've got mages to save."

"Elyria."

The last thing I expected was to hear Fenris say my name while I was preparing my horse for travel. Boggie stood stock still until I practically jerked at the sound of my name coming from my former lover's mouth. That old ache in my chest started up again. I bowed my head and chanted to myself, the wound is where the light enters. I didn't turn around. "Can I help you?"

"Could we talk for a moment?"

"We're talking Fenris. Shouldn't you be prepping to leave?"

A hand wrapped around the elbow closest to him. The wound is where the light enters. Please god. Don't let me break into tears. The wound is where the light enters. I'm supposed to be strong right now. The badass leading the Inquisition into battle. I breathed in, and the air smelled like him for a moment. The wound is where the light enters.

"Elyria," he said my name as if the syllables hurt his throat.

"I was gone seven months." I told him softly, my throat catching on the words. "Seven months, not seven years. I would never have knowingly left you that long."

He breathed out like he'd been holding it. "But you _did_."

My whole chest ached. "What does it matter? You don't care about me anymore, remember?" I turned my back to him and mounted Boggie who was giving Fenris a death glare the likes of which should have scared any other mortal. "Move out," I called out bowing my head so others wouldn't see the tears forming in my eyes. "We're burning daylight."

* * *

Fenris watched her leave with a stone in his chest pressing on his heart. Seven months. That was all the time that had passed for her. Seven months. He dragged in a breath that hurt the back of his throat. Cold, sharp winds snapped at him. Snow drifted amongst the troops.

Why had he not simply said I love you? I still dream about you? I missed you? Please don't leave me again.

His heart twisted yet again. His gut overflowing with guilt. He never should have let the anger get to him the way he had. He was just so _angry_ with her. Seven years without the one person whom made it past all of his defenses, that wormed her way into his heart with her smile and her laugh and kisses that left him breathless. He'd never wanted anything so much as he wanted to be with her.

Fenris remembered those days after she was gone in Denerim. Those first days were...unpleasant to say the very least. He remembered Alistair's face, hands planted on his shoulders, calming him with a promise. This, her disappearing, had happened before. Elyria would come back. He could not lose himself to anger or desperation. For her, he needed to maintain control.

Elyria was not from Thedas, Alistair reminded both Bethany and Fenris. She could pop up in the strangest of places. Like falling out of a tree in the middle of the Korcari wilds. Or at a witch's house a day later.

Fenris knew about the headaches. Elyria avoided certain mages simply because their presence could trigger them. Blood magic triggered them. Sometimes a strong spell. But she usually made a sound. There were _warnings_.

In Denerim, there had been no warning. No sound of pain from her lips that reached his ears. He'd felt something at his elbow, thinking it a cut purse he turned around and her clothes, her armor, dropped on the ground. Alistair made a joke about a harpy on Collins Row. Fenris had stared. His mind did not quite fathom that she was gone until he was holding her things in his hands.

They stayed in Denerim four days longer than they planned to. Eventually they left, traveling to Alistair's brother's grave in the wilds then his family in Redcliffe. Again they stayed several days longer than they planned. To give Elyria time to catch up or send a letter.

When neither happened, they trekked up the mountains to the ashes. To say the tests had been difficult lacked the profound raw, emotional state the three of them were left in after the trials. He said aloud things he'd never admitted to himself because of that damn guardian spirit.

Being afraid to love for fear that Danarius would find out and execute Elyria. That he still, in his heart of hearts, feared she would one day turn her back on him for being a murderer. For being a slave. For being scarred.

None of them had known if the ashes worked or if they had not. Alistair took the pinch, swallowed them with a bit of water and gagged. In all, after the trials, it was incredibly anti-climactic.

They returned to Redcliffe, and again, waited several days.

He watched the cheery hope in Alistair die a little at a time. Just as it began to die in Fenris as well. Bethany, somehow, managed to convince the two of them to head north to the circle. Afterward they traveled north again, and for the very first time, Fenris saw Orzammar.

He remembered standing on the walkway into the Proving Grounds, surrounded on either side by great glowing streams of lava falling to pools below. He heard about this place so many times from Elryia, Alistiar and a few times from Varric, but seeing it was believing it. He'd never been so awed by anything in all his life.

And he'd never missed Elyria so much. He could almost feel the ghost of her take his hand lacing their fingers together and whisper in one ear, "This is the point where you're supposed to say '_wow_.'" He said wow and stared upward toward the cavernous ceiling and the homes built in tiers upon the walls.

Alistair put a friendly arm around his shoulder. "I know."

They took lodging at the chantry from Brother Burkle, who, apparently Alistair was great friends with. The next day they toured the Diamond District and the Shaperate, where Alistiar was greeted by the Shapers with the title Warden. They watched a Proving, violent and bloody with dwarves yelling in their native language at each other.

"Don't drink the dwarven ale." Alistair warned both Fenris and Bethany upon entering a bar to take a meal. "An old friend of mine made that mistake once and blacked out. She woke up several miles away with no memory of how she got there without any clothes."

Fenris avoided the ale. Though the food was very good. Spices he'd never tried before warmed him. When someone offered him a black moss cupcake, his chest panged for Elyria. He bought three and shared them with Alistair and Bethany. If only to tell Elyria about it when she returned. She would have loved the spicy sweet tang.

They traveled back to Denerim within the month. An extra day here, another there, eventually they bought passage and returned to Kirkwall. The hope that Elyria would return in a few days became hope that she would return in a few weeks. Weeks became months. Months became a year. A year became two, three then more.

He'd resigned himself somewhere about year four that she was not going to come back to him. Around year five, he allowed himself to look at other women again. Talk to them, flirt with them. One of Isabella's girls, a blonde though not the right shade of blonde, managed to convince him to go upstairs with her at the Hanged Man.

She kissed him, tangled her fingers in his hair, sat in his lap and asked him to take off his armor. If he closed his eyes, if only just for a moment, he could pretend her hair was the right shade of blonde. That her words were less rasping and closer to another voice and accent. She got his shirt off him. Guided his hand under her skirt.

Fenris, despite what some of their friends might have speculated, never made love to Elyria. He'd spent the night with her twice figuring out what made her moan. With his hand one one pale thigh, he had no inclination to go further. Not with the blonde. He left before her dress came off.

Celibacy wasn't new to him. It was a choice he'd made before and made again.

He should have known when Alistair hadn't been completely forthcoming after that letter from Varric that Alistair was hiding something. Wanting to get on the road as soon as possible was an indicator. Fenris, at the time, had taken it as Alistair wanting to think about anything but the noise in his head.

Then they arrived at Haven. And for just a moment, a single solitary moment standing there in the snow wearing an old coat his former love had given him, Fenris stared at the woman talking to Cullen. Nearly seven years and Elyria hadn't aged a single day. Not one. Then she turned a little and her face. The look on her face ripped open that place in his chest where his heart broke so many years ago.

His life blood all but spilling into the snow at his feet.

Where the anger - no, not simply anger - where the cold fury came from he wasn't quite sure anymore. It might have come from her running to Alistair, allowing him to embrace her first. It might have stemmed from the jealousy he always felt at the close relationship the two had.

He'd never quite come to terms with their assurances that they were just friends. Fenris had always wondered, if only at the back of his mind, if Alistair might not know he was in love with Elyria. If perhaps Elyria felt the same and she had no idea either.

The wound in his chest stopped bleeding while the two embraced. It scabbed over and closed with the sheer chaotic wrath at the very idea she'd come back. **Seven years later**. Varric was the one to send a letter, not her. And he'd shut down every emotion he felt aside from the anger. Everything he still felt for her blinked away when she finally turned her attention on him. He wanted to cause her the pain she caused him. Seven years worth of it.

Fenris fully expected to feel satisfied when he told her he no longer cared for her. To feel something other than inner turmoil and icy fury. Certainly not the sharp, painful twist in his chest in response to green eyes brimming with tears and the croak of her voice when she fought not to cry. Then he was even more angry.

With her, with himself. She cried. She had time to grieve him and he never had grieved her loss. Which only further fueled the fire. It was days later, after she'd gone and taken Alistair with her to Val Royeaux that he finally managed to unwind the tight coil of emotion in his chest. He'd been sitting in the tavern drinking the Inquisition soldiers under the table. Both winning and losing at Wicked Grace to a variety of men and women.

He might have been a little drunk already when the red haired assassin sat down. Of course, at the time, he hadn't known she was an assassin. Or a spymaster. Or dangerous. He had some relative knowledge she was on the council with Elyria and that, as they say, was all.

Fenris drank the wine she offered by the bottle. At some point, he wasn't quite certain when, Cullen sat down with them. He offered Fenris a place training the troops. He wouldn't answer to Elyria. He would report to Cullen directly. No one else. He polished off another bottle before he agreed to stay.

For the next week he managed to forget about the ache, the pain, the anger and frustration by working with the men and women. By immersing himself in the Inquisition. Distractions were easier than dealing with personal pain and suffering. Dealing with the repercussions of what he said to Elyria.

He saw her the day she got back. Talking to the assassin and the diplomat. The colors in her hair were further faded, the blonde almost entirely coming through now. Elyria stood near the stables, arms crossed over her chest arguing with the spymaster. Relief washed through him. Cullen told him what they were walking into in Val Royeaux.

He'd been half afraid she wouldn't come back alive. He half wished they'd asked him to join them when he heard it from Cullen's mouth. He had to pacify himself for over a week with the knowledge that Alistair and Varric were there. Two people he trusted most in this world. They would watch her back. They would keep her alive.

So Fenris could figure out a way to stop being so angry with her.

It took another few days and half a bottle of wine to work up the courage to finally knock on her door. Only to be greeted, if that's what one could call it, by Emma's tongue lashing. It took him another few days to fully read Elyria's book. By then they were back, but she was always so hard to find.

Difficult to see alone.

When he saw her with that ghastly horse - she always did like things that did not fit into the ordinary (like him) - he took a chance. He took a chance that perhaps she still cared for him too. Having his words thrown back in his face...he deserved it. Finding out it was only seven months for her while he crawled through an utter hell of nearly a decade without her ripped open that wound on his heart again.

His life blood splashing on the snow at his feet.

"Fenris," the Iron Bull called over, sounding much too familiar with the way he said Fenris' name. "You coming or what?"

He watched as in the distance, Elyria's back stiffened at his name even as she turned a corner and disappeared behind a boulder.

"I'm coming." Fenris told the Qunari with irritation. He would go and do as she asked. Help the Templars escape. Fight. Win. Come back alive.

Then they would talk.

And perhaps, if he was lucky and he'd not completely ruined everything. Then, perhaps, Elryia would agree to be his again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize in advance for the next chapter.
> 
> Also...just so everyone knows...I'm really sorry if I made you cry. If you hit that review button you can tell me how much this hurt and how much you hate me for it.
> 
> Critters! I hope you found the easter egg!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell me you hate me by hitting the review button and writing, "I hate you so much right now."
> 
> Happy Sunday reading!
> 
> To all the people reviewing, hitting favorite, and following: THANK YOU!

Panic! At the Disco - The Good, The Bad and The Dirty

Set It Off - Why Worry

The Limousines - Internet Killed the Video Star

Kongos - I'm Only Joking

Set It Off - Midnight Thoughts

Fatboy Slim - Demons

OneRepublic - If I Lose Myself

Panic! At the Disco - Miss Jackson

* * *

Chapter 13:

Alistiar, moderately pissed off, leaned into me and from between gritted teeth ground out, "He's no warden."

"I know," I told him quietly in return, "but will you trust me when I say that we're going to need all hands on deck?"

My friend huffed and in return muttered, "I might."

I patted his chest gently. "Welcome to the Inquisition Blackwall. You can head to Haven. We'll be along in a day or two."

"That's alright," Blackwall said, hefting his shield. "I'll go with you if it's all the same."

Alistair made a sound at the back of his throat. I shot him a warning look. "No, sorry, we're about to go do something really stupid and really dangerous and I'd rather not expose you to our level of crazy just yet. Hit the camp, eat, drink head to Haven. I need you training our men and women not to hit like a templar."

Again, a strangled, guttural sound from Alistair.

This time I gave him a raised eyebrow. "Do you, or do you not, block spells with your shield and lower your eyes?"

Grumpily. "It's how I was trained."

"And our men are being trained similarly. We need variety in the troops." I nodded at Blackwall who was, for a lying liar, doing a pretty good job of hiding his preening. "We may be a day or two behind you. There are a few loose ends here we have to clear up."

Like that rogue mage den. The astrariums. Fighting the bandits taking over that area to the north west where the dragon was. The ruins with Solas. The bandits to the south once we took care of the ones to the north.

Meeting with Alistair's mom. Breaking the space time continuum.

Bull, Vivienne, Cassandra and...Fenris would be back at Haven before we were. Hopefully. I meant it when I said I didn't want any heros. Hopefully Cass would keep them all to the task. Save as many templars as possible. Get out.

Alive.

I should have left Alistair stay with them. I should have. He would have watched Fenris' back. The nervous tingle in my palms had nothing to do with the mark. I was so stressed out over it, I almost missed the rogue camping out behind an outcropping of rocks. Varric put him down with an arrow between the rogue's eyes.

"Elyria," Varric admonished, "head in the game."

How did you keep your head in the game when your heart was walking into the fire?

Day one was rough. Really, unbelievably rough. I soaked my armor to get the blood out that night. We killed a lot of people that day. Apostates, rogue templars, and mercenaries. Day two wasn't much better. The dragon actually took potshots at me while I tried to gather royal elfroot. The scorch marks on my armor wouldn't come out that night. The blood did.

I made certain to divide up the loot from the Astrariums appropriately the night before day three. Day three, tomorrow, I'd be time traveling. I blew out a nervous breath and scrubbed harder at the scorch mark. The hand on my back, rubbing my shoulders eased the tension in my neck and shoulders.

"Any harder and you'll take off the scales." Alistair told me gently. His other hand took the brush from me and put it to the side. I let him. He took my scale armor and moved it away from my line of sight. "Do you want to tell me why you're so upset?"

I could lie. "Tomorrow's going to be hard." I didn't want to lie. Not to him. "Really, awful and hard."

"Come on." One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, "Come to bed. You can tell me about it."

I allowed Alistair to gather my things and take them toward our tent. I followed mulling over what I could tell him and what I couldn't. He held the flap open for me and I ducked in. He followed. He knelt down on his sleeping roll and folded my gear neatly, putting it to the side while I, cross-legged across from him continued thinking about it.

"What can you tell me?" He asked after several moments of silence. My Alistair, always so careful when he knows I can't tell him everything. He never argues with me. He knows I won't let him walk into it without warning. He took one of my hands in his and rubbed his thumb gently in circles.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow we're going to see a new type of rift and we're going to face something new and…" I dragged in a deep breath, holding it until I felt my heart beat calm a little. "Tomorrow, the rifts will be distorted by time."

He paused in the gentle rub of his thumb over my wrist. "Ellie...time magic? Is that even possible?"

"Magisters."

Alistair, having been friends with Fenris for so many years, probably understood how fucked up the magic of Tevinter's ruling class was. I waited while he processed what I said. "Just like them punching a hole through our world to yours and pulling you through."

My brilliant buddy. No one ever gives him enough credit for how smart he is. Looking at him you wouldn't think he's anything more than a jock. Then he talks and you think for just a second, he's just another pretty face. He is a pretty face and he's a jock but he's also so ridiculously smart. "Something like that, yeah."

"Magic," he muttered in what sounded like anger. "Mages."

"No, don't blame mages for magisters." I turned my hand over in his and squeezed. "That's like blaming all puppies for the actions of a hell hound."

He looked skeptical.

I couldn't have him not liking mages. Not when his mother was one. "Al...there's something else I have to tell you."

He laughed a puff of air. "What else can top time magic?"

I grabbed my bag and pulled my kindle. "I was back in the other place when I found out." Pressing the button to turn it on I tapped the screen a few times to pull up the downloaded wiki page. "Why didn't you tell me that Lady Isolde literally made you sleep with the dogs as a child?"

He looked down and away from me. "How did you find out?"

I held up the kindle showing him his own face. Albeit electronic from DAO. He went slack jawed. He grabbed it out of my hand and turned it. The screen turned with it, the picture compensating for the lengthwise size. "How...is that…" He stared at himself then at me.

I took it back from him gently and scrolled. "Your mother is Grand Enchanter Fiona, an elf and a mage. She and your father became lovers when she was a grey warden. Your father loved her. She gave you to him, insisted that you think your mother was human and-"

He took the kindle out of my hands and read it for himself. Hazel eyes traveled over the page a dozen times before he finally looked at me. "My mother is alive."

"Your mother is alive. And that harpy on Collins Row is not your sister." I confirmed.

He stared down at the words again. "We...we can talk to her tomorrow. Can't we? Please? When we go to meet the mages. I want," he licked his lips, "I want to talk to her. I want to ask her so many questions."

"Tomorrow. Afterward." One more time I took the kindle back and powered it off. "After all of it, once we have a chance I want to sit down with the Grand Enchanter and then you can talk to her to your heart's content."

"Ellie," he said my name like he was trying to process everything. "That was my face."

"Nah." I took out my phone, unlocked it and tapped the camera, sliding my thumb up to turn on selfie view. I turned it around and showed him, "That's your face."

He took it out of my hands like it might bite him and examined it at a variety of angles. "What is it?"

"It's called a cell phone, and it's made out of metal and plastics. Once Thedas hits the industrial revolution, it will eventually develop plastic. Thin durable material that can be used in place of tempered glass so it doesn't break as easily. Rubber, that's a fun one. You can bounce it."

He stared at me like I had two heads. The screen had gone dark already in his hands. I hit the home button and swiped the unlock key. "Smile and hit the red here."

He tried. He really did. His first selfie came out awkward with him scowling and concentrating on trying to smile. I deleted it and turned the camera around so I could take his picture. "Smile at me. Think of tiny mabari puppies wrestling with all those pudgie-" Click, "faces." Click. Click.

I turned the resulting picture around for him. "You're a good looking guy Al. Very photogenic."

He held the phone staring at himself. "That's me."

"It is. I will always have a picture of you on my phone now."

"Take one with both of us." So I did. I leaned next to him, turned it back to selfie view and snapped a few more. "If you had a cell phone, and Thedas had a cell signal, I could send these to you."

"There are so many things about your world I don't know."

My world. What a funny term. My world was Thedas as far as I was concerned. My life, my heart, all of it belonged to Thedas in some way or another. I reached over and tapped his nose. "Maybe, one day, if it is possible I can take you back with me. You'd love pizza Al. It's bread, tomato sauce with basil and oregano and ungodly amounts of cheese."

"Don't say cheese to me Ellie. That goes right to my stomach."

I tapped his nose. "I know. Come on. Let's go to bed. You've got a big day tomorrow. Even the Doctor would be proud of us with how we're going to try not to fuck it all up tomorrow."

He tilted his head at me, nose scrunched. "Doctor who?"

I just couldn't help laughing.

* * *

I'm not nervous. You're nervous. I'm terrified. I'm about to break the laws of nature, physics and the spatial-temporal dynamics of existence and life as we know it. Breathe Elyria. Breathe. The trigger to pop a rift is my mark getting within approximately (give or take a few) 100 feet. I slowed Boggie down, pausing just before crossing what I estimated was 120 feet.

Solas swore profusely.

Ahead of us the terrors stood frozen in time, half in, half out of their portals while a despair demon howled out a blast of frost suspended mid-scream. Three, no, wait, four shades in a variety of green hues held stock still, floating mid-air and posed. Like they were just waiting for us.

"I know you said…" Alistair's voice was shocked and a little bit terrified, "but…"

"That's just not right." Varric groused. "That's just a different kind of not right."

"Varric," I said as I pulled the glove off my left hand. I could feel the tell tale itch of the rift tickling the bones, asking to please just tear the fade open and relieve the need to stitch the fabric of the world. "I'm going to need a volley followed by an explosive shot. Can you do that?"

He adjusted Bianca on his back. "Bianca can do anything she sets her mind to."

"Good. Solas."

"Frost trap?" He asked.

Oh lord. Was I becoming predictable? I hope not. "That envy demon needs a fireball to the face. Or lightning. Whatever you have on tap that isn't ice based."

"Just when I begin to think I understand your strategy tactics." The elf observed.

Alistair dismounted, pulling his shield from his back and giving the new - that's right new - one handed axe a quick turn in his other hand. He took the lead walking in, nodding at me silently. I wait as they station themselves. Through the mark I could feel the stillness of this tear in the fade. Like a wasp nest hibernating in deep winter. All I had to do was take a few more steps and the activity would start buzzing. Unsheathing my weapons, I met Al's gaze from where he now stood, a foot or two from the bigger terror.

I backed up a little more, giving myself a good few extra steps to get a decent running start and took off. Everything happened fast once I crossed that twenty or so feet. The despair demon howled like a banshee, at the same time the shades began their whispering and the terrors screeched their high pitched whine. Nails on a chalkboard.

Varric and Solas went first. Explosions and repetitive shots the sound of ping, ping, ping as the arrows flew in succession. The snapping crack of ozone as Solas lets loose a chain lighting. Pop, pop, pop down went the shades before they ever had a chance. Believe it or not, the fighting calms down the nerves. By the time the ground is pulsing in time with the mark on my hand for the next round, I'm not terrified anymore.

This is just another day in the Hellmouth.

Dorian found us about ten seconds after after the rift closed. While the Redcliffe guards were calling out the all clear, a distinct, slow clap came from just beyond the gate. Varric turned on him with Bianca raised, Alistair kept his shield up.

"My, you are a sight." Dorian Pavus, the number one reason I didn't want Fenris with us. Tall, dark haired, he could almost pass as someone mixed race leaning toward Indian-British descent, dressed in the most beige clothing imaginable. No. Really. I questioned his fashion sense immediately.

My hand tight and tingly like the mark didn't want to mess with the time rift to begin with, stung a little. "I know. We're fancy as fuck. You should see the tall one in a crown."

Varric snorted. Alistair groaned. Solas chuckled.

See I'm funny as shit when I want to be.

The gate rolled up, and he stood there almost lazily looking the lot of us up and down. "I take it, then, you are the one they call the 'Herald of Andraste?'"

"Do you see anyone else here with a big green crag in their hand closing rifts?"

"Fair enough." He walked toward us with a flourish. "I am Dorian Pavus, but I assume you knew that if you're sending me letters." He held up the letter I assume was the one I had Josephine send on my behalf between two fingers. She's the diplomat after all. I'm just the face.

Alistair made a sound at the back of his throat. He leaned in, lowering his voice to say, "Ellie, are you sure?"

No. I'm never sure, but that's the way we play the game.

Redcliffe Castle. The last time I was here...looking up at the stone halls felt almost familiar, if only in a sense of time long gone. We were a ragtag group of would be heroes trying to save the world. Alistair stood next to me as we entered the hall, his back stiff, his eyes trailing around. If Oghren were here he'd have made a drunken joke about something. I know it. Shale might have made an off hand comment about the lack of change in decoration. Right now all I'm thinking about it getting through today. Today and a year from today if that makes any fucking sense to anyone.

Honestly, I don't feel like the badass representative of the Inquisition that I'm supposed to be walking into the room. Alistair to my left, Varric and Solas backing us up. We probably look like something out of a hard rock montage. Someone hit play on the soundtrack and stand back.

An absolutely awful pun about dead gods and the quasi-jackal mask of the magister greeting us sat on the tip of my tongue. What is with all the pointy bits man? I mean, really? If the goal was to make these guys look like the sitcom creeper who would 100% turn into reaver material, well they fricken succeeded on that end.

"Are you overcompensating?" I asked the white, bronze and blue clad asshat standing there staring at us like this was all shits and giggles. "Or are you just fond of looking like you are?"

And here comes that servant. Or slave. In all honesty, it didn't matter. He drank the kool-aide either way. "The magister's invitation-"

"Elyria doesn't go anywhere without us." Varric snarked from behind me.

See. My friends know how we roll.

The blonde guy's face fell for an instant, brow furrowing as he looked at me quizzically. Like he was waiting for me to disregard my party and come along like a good little pup. Instead I crossed my arms over my chest, stood firm and watched him steadily. The guy with the claws (seriously, they're actual claws on his hand) circled around us, flanking. Alistair's fingers twitched in the corner of my vision.

My buddy. Always so aware when he's in warrior mode.

Finally blondie nodded and turned indicating we follow him. More guys in mask came down the stairs, again flanking us. We went up the stairs.

"My lord magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived."

Alexius doesn't look like he's a terrible person. He looks like a father willing to do what he has to in order to keep his son alive and safe. The son beside him in yellow that looks so much like him. He has no idea he's about to get screwed by the big bad in a faustian deal.

Never make a deal with the devil. They never go your way. Except for that guy with the goat that we rounded up. Apparently, a deal with a rage demon possessing an unnaturally long lived goat was working out for all parties involved.

Fiona on the other hand…was staring at Alistair. Again.

Beside me Alistair's gauntleted hand bumped my gloved one. Knowing him the way I do, it isn't just because he got too close. He needed a second of reassurance. I let my elbow brush his armor.

"My friend," he almost sound genuine when he calls me his friend. As if this isn't an act. Though, I suppose, all the world's a stage. The bard told us so. "It is so good to see you, and your," he doesn't look pleased as his gaze travels over Solas, Varric and Alistair, "associates of course. I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties."

Look at him slinging favors like he's the king.

Leliana was right. He's so complimentary, I am absolutely certain he's going to try to kill me. When is the question.

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" Fiona finally snapped out of the shocked 'oh god my son is here' momentary pause she'd taken upon seeing us come up those stairs. The tone in her voice, irritated, incredulous, wary, a smidge of anger and not a single ounce of fear. No doubt, I'm going to like my bestie's mom.

"Fiona," Alexius' condescension is palpable, "you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives."

Where is my goddamn backup?

* * *

Once, a very long time ago, Elyria described to him something called a s'more. He appreciated her trying to make the evening less uncomfortable. Nearby, not out of hearing distance, Hawke and Isabella were...entertaining each other. Both of them knew very well how the sound carried off the boulders on Sundermount and yet, there they were no more than one hundred feet away playing - as Elyria called it - hide the sausage.

He snorted at her description, laughing at her lewd gestures.

Though there were a dozen other moments between them, this one stuck out most to him. This was one of those moments when he realized, back then, that he - despite best efforts not to burden her with his broken soul - wanted to be with her.

"It's a graham cracker, honey flavor but sometimes cinnamon tastes just as good." She raised her voice a bit to cover the 'ooh' and 'ahh' and 'yes, just like that!' sounds Isabella was indulging in.

Obviously, Hawke was an excellent lover. Or Isabella was overacting for Hawke's benefit. Any combination of the two were possible really.

"And you put the chocolate down on the graham cracker, you put the marshmallow in the fire until it gets a nice brown crisp shell on it and then you squash it down on the chocolate with another cracker."

He glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Sounds...messy."

She grinned at him, poking the fire with a stick. "Yeah gets all over your hands, but it tastes _amazing_."

"**Ohhh, Garrett!"**

Elyria winced at the same time Fenris rolled his eyes heavenward. "Seriously, he can't be that good."

Fenris' gaze dropped back to her. "There is only one way to find out."

She pulled a face on him, waving the stick about, the glowing end making mindless patterns in the dark. "Uh, no. I'm a team player and all, but that is above and beyond my paygrade. Besides, he's not my type."

He found himself asking, before he could stop himself, "You don't find Hawke attractive?"

As his reward for being forward with her, she flushed pink across her cheekbones, down her neck and up to her hairline. He found it very attractive. A long, loose lock of blonde hair fell into her eyes which she hastily tucked back behind her ear. "Har har, very funny."

"Do you prefer Alistair then?" He pressed, if only in a masochistic desire to hear her say yes. "Or," and he could not believe himself saying this, he prayed the answer would be no, "one of the other men in our party?" Please, Maker, let it not be Sebastian. Or the abomination. Someone like Alistair, he could live with.

Green eyes, much lighter and brighter than his own, flashed over to him and darted away again. "No." A pink tongue swiping out across her lower lip and his eyes traced the movement with the greatest attention. "You know I'm not." She stabbed the fire once more, devoid of humor now. "Don't ask questions you don't really want answers to Fenris."

One of his arms crossed the distance between them, a foot or two and stilled her movements. "Perhaps I would like answer."

Her grip on the stick faltered. "You don't."

Fenris found himself watching her mouth, "Elyria…"

Elyria's breath left her lips in a soft, sharp pant. "Don't," she slid back in the dirt and grass, "just...just don't. I can't...I won't…" She pressed those intriguing lips together and he had the deepest urge to take her wrist and pull her closer. The fingers of her left hand, despite her pulling away, were still only an inch or two away from him.

All he had to do was reach out.

"My heart can't take being broken again," her words were so soft, so low and quiet that he almost lost them in the crackle of the fire. She shifted her left hand into her lap, away from him. "Don't unless you mean it this time."

This time. He meant it last time, though she couldn't have known. Not from the way he'd treated her afterward. He simply couldn't stand being touched and despite the year or so between then and the night in front of the fire, he'd attempted to get used to it. Because he very much wanted to slide his hand under her shirt again and hear her breathing catch on a moan.

He still remembered the way she tasted. The pale skin of her chin, ear, neck. The way she gripped at his back, trying to pull him closer. The tears in her eyes and the desperate need to make it all go away because no one as beautiful or as good as she was should ever, ever hurt that way.

He still loathed himself for taking advantage of her.

Fenris withdrew, dropping the stick.

"So you and the boss, huh?"

Fenris looked up from the fire. "What?"

Bull, motioned with the stick he'd been using to stoke the fire. "You and the boss, used to be a thing. Heard it around Haven."

Fenris, very pointedly, glared at him. "And what is that to you?"

"I was thinking." The Qunari told him conversationally, "She doesn't have a type. You're thin, not too tall, but the other guy, muscles and height. Most women have a type. They like their men a certain body type, eye color, hair color, elves, humans, even dwarves. The other guy has what, hazel eyes? You have green. He's at least six foot something two hundred pounds easy. You're five foot nine and maybe one forty, one fifty."

"Is there a point to this?"

"You're an elf, he's human. He follows her around like a bodyguard. You glare and stare." Bull poked the fire. In more ways than he knew. "I'm saying, she doesn't have a type." One large shoulder rose and dropped. "I have a type." He said it with a wink.

"As do I." Fenris told him flatly. Blondes with a temper who could hold a grudge forever and a day. "Not. You."

Bull held up his hands, palms out save for the fingers holding the stick. "I'm just saying. The offer is there. She moved on, why shouldn't you? Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

He had no intentions of getting over Elyria. Or under someone else for that matter. He pushed out of his seat on the grass, the anger and irritating feeding the veins of silver on his skin.

* * *

Thigh high water. At least I think it's mostly water. Please, god, please be mostly water. There are huge spikes of red-orange lyrium sticking out fo the ground, and the water around it is warm. There are more spikes of it in the rafters above us.

I know where we are, I've been down here before but never as a guest. These are the cells under Redcliffe castle, where we freed Jowan. Dorian and I have about ten seconds of looking at each other before the guards come through the open doorway with;

"Blood of the elder one!"

It's a quick fight. Dorian was a badass with a staff and I'm a former merc with her favorite weapons. The blood makes the water reddish from where they've fallen. Doesn't one of these guys have a prison key on him? Sigh. Reaching down to where the one I killed fell, I started dragging him out of the water toward the raised section of floor to pat him down. Bingo! First try.

"Interesting," Dorian on the other hand walked around the room taking everything in. "It's probably not what Alexius intended-"

"A year later." I went for the sack in the corner. "We went forward in time to a year later. Don't ask how I know. I just know."

He hummed at me. "I see. The closest confluence of arcane energy, a year later."

"And in the same place." I told him, "I've been down here before. During the Blight ten years ago. This one at least is a storage area under Redcliffe."

He rubbed his chin. "Ah! Alexius used the amulet as a focus, moving us through time." Dorian sent me an appraising look. "You are quite the character Herald. Answering questions before they're asked of you."

"Elyria." I told him and went for the door the guards pulled closed behind them. "Come on pretty boy, before you start staining those silks with muck and blood."

"Pretty boy?" He questioned me as I unlocked the gate. "I don't think I've ever been called pretty before. At least not by a woman."

Peeking around the corner provided me with confirmation that we were in fact under Redcliffe. There's that chip in the wall where one of Lelianna's arrows once slid through the neck of an undead cretin and chipped the stone. "Well get used to the nicknames. Varric's going to have one for you soon enough, if not already."

The red lyrium was everywhere in almost claustrophobic amounts.

"You know," Dorian said from behind me in an observational, yet anecdotal tone, "Everyone is probably still where, and when, we left them. In some sense, anyway." He hummed to himself again, musing. "It's the same old tune. 'Let's play with magic we don't understand. It will make us incredibly powerful!' Evidently," his tone turned bitter and sarcastic, "it doesn't matter if you ric apart the fabric of time in the process."

I paused at the end of the walkway past the empty cells. "Remind me one day to tell you about how the people where I'm from discovered this thing called gunpowder." Wait a tick. I glanced back over my shoulder at the empty cell closest to the exit. Wasn't there supposed to be someone in that one? Thinking back, I couldn't honestly remember.

The first person we found after dispatching a few other unwelcome irritations in the form of Venatori guards, was Fiona. My best friend's mom leaned heavily on one wall, blocked by the huge outcropping of red lyrium in her cell. Growing out of her. I popped the lock for her, but all she did was look at the two of us with eyes the color of blood oranges.

Involuntarily, I took a step back. Me. The supposedly hardened warrior.

"You…" her voice was a rasp, nearly an echo of her former self, "you're alive. How? I saw you…" she trailed off turning away from us and bowing her forehead against the hand braced against the wall. "I saw you disappear into the rift."

"Can you tell us the year," Dorian pressed, hiding his disgust at the sight of the lyrium growing out her body.

"Harvestmere, 9:42."

"You were right," Dorian told me gently, sounding almost like he hadn't believe it at first, "but how did you know?"

"Fiona…" That empty cell back by where we were nagged at me again. "Do you know where the others are? If they're here?"

"They are...somewhere." She and Dorian began to talk, and I let them. They went through dialogue as I went over how long it had been. I arrived here in early Harvestmere. It's been weeks since then. From my count, via my cell phone's calendar, it was almost Thanksgiving, or almost Satinalia in Firstfall. Eleven months later, not a full year.

Fiona finished with Dorian, and she leaned heavily against her hand again. That, I supposed, was all she could give us.

We kept going. There were no more guards between us and Solas. Ah, Dread Wolf. How the mighty had fallen. Varric came across lack luster in his attempt to grin at me. I went to hug him and he pushed me off.

"Once it gets into you," Varric told me stiffly, "you can give it to others."

"Like the plague." I let my arms drop and sighed heavily. This was bad. I knew it would be bad, but this. This was worse than bad. I cast around. "Where's Alistair? We've been through a dozen-"

The way the two of them looked down and away from me. I swallowed hard. No. No. No. "Varric where is Alistair?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. They took him a long time ago." He looked up at me with orange-red eyes, "a long, long time ago."

For a second I couldn't breathe. "But...but you don't know if he's dead or alive or shackled somewhere else right?" I almost reached out to grab Varric's shoulder, my hand paused hallway between him and me. "Right?"

"It is possible." Solas told us, or maybe just me. He didn't sound convinced. He didn't sound like he was trying to convince me.

I breathed out hard and we moved on.

"We have to go up," Solas' said as we moved, "I've heard the guards saying that Alexius has barricaded himself in the throne room."

So up we went taking guards and Venatori down as we went.

It might have been the anxiety, but that godforsaken Prayer to the New God stuck in my head even after I lit it on fire. I held it much like I had Aedan's letter over a candle flame. Only this time, instead of being annoyed, I was verging on rage. We still hadn't found Alistair and the gnawing pit of worry in my gut was turning itself into fear.

We reached another hallway and there were voices.

"How did Duke know of the sacrifice in the Temple?" The voice demanded, "answer!"

"Never." Lelianna replied. Someone struck her.

"There's no use to this defiance little bird. There's no one left for you to protect." The voice continued.

"You're wasting your breath." Again with the striking her.

I kicked one foot against the door fully expecting the group of us to have to break it down. It gave easily. The bastard left the door unlocked and open! Unfucking believable.

"Talk!" He said at the same time the door slammed open and I walked in.

She saw me, over his shoulder and he saw her look up. He turned and Lelianna did what Lelianna does with efficiency. Her legs wrapped around his neck and snapped. Down her torturer went.

By the time the others were in the room, I was already searching his body for a key.

"You're alive." She too had that strange echoing rasp to her voice and stared at me like I was the ghost of Christmas future.

"I'm alive." I had to brace against the wall to reach her shackles. "You're stubborn as fuck, you know that?"

Lelianna bowed her head. "I do." Her hand went out and for a moment I thought she was going to take mine in hers. Instead she took the key from me and walked, with a slight wobble, to the cage in the corner.

The cage that was supposed to be empty, but wasn't.

A lone figure curled up and draped in black. She unlocked the cage, reaching in to shake the body. It moved. For the briefest of moments I thought that maybe it was one of our other companions. It was too small and too slight to be Alistair.

Then his hood fell back and oh my god…

Fenris, the green eyes I loved so much a burning orange-red, peered outward, the tattoos along his chin and neck, no longer silver and softly glowing. Instead they were angry red, like welts made by something white hot pressed into his skin.

I was walking forward as he climbed out of the cage before I realized my feet were moving. "Fenris."

"Don't," he snarled at me pulling in on himself. "Don't touch me."

I swallowed hard and withdrew my hand. "Do they hurt? Your scars."

"They always hurt," he snapped in anger. He blinked, it was a slow, pained blink. "Now they burn."

Oh god. _No._

* * *

I apologized for this chapter in advance. I know, I know. I'm an awful, horrible, terrible person.

Now I'm apologizing for the next chapter too. Possibly the following one in addition.

Thank you to all my reviewers! I love you. I really do. You're lovely, lovely people.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. Hope you're all at home, safe, healthy, and bored as I am. Today I have to run into the office for about 3-4 hours. Wish me luck.
> 
> I know it has been a while. I'm sorry!
> 
> Also, nonny, thanks for the idea. That wasn't the way this was going, but hell if that didn't make me Oh, yes, good idea.
> 
> This chapter dedicated to Emma's real life counterpart. She really is a nurse.

Playlist:

Panic! At the Disco - The Good The Bad and The Dirty

5SOS - Young Blood

Post Malone ft. Ozzy Osbourne & Travis Scott - Take What You Want

Ozzy Osbourne - Under the Gravestone

The Rolling Stones - Paint It Black

Skillet - Feel Invincible

Fall Out Ball - The Phoenix

* * *

Chapter 14:

Bloody stupid golems. Bloody stupid snow. Bloody stupid fires too. They couldn't have a big fire, the scout said. Too easy to spot the scout said. Hide it behind a rock the scout said. No bigger than embers the scout said.

Well the golem was a big rock wasn't she! Standing there still as anything, watching the world from their spot on the ridge. Fuckin' creepy.

Sera was sure the golem was a she. Talking 'bout all the pretty green and blue crystals and do they make her look fat. Never heard such whining and snippery before the last three days! Pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders and chest, sticking her long arms and fingers out over the embers. They were bloody well hidden behind an outcropping, the least she could do is get warm but nooooo-

_SNAP!_

The golem's head turned toward the sound and Sera knocked an arrow. Most they'd seen up here were some fennics, a few squirrels who went after the scraps that Sera tossed away, and a lone snow rabbit hopping past. None of them were big enough to crack a branch. Stealthily, Sera sidled up to the tree they were taking cover under and peeked around.

The Heraldy lady, Elyria - funny and pretty too bad she liked men - gave her an order. Watch the golem's back, protect the golem. Don't be a hero. No problem there. Never was very heroic. Slipping through the shadows from one tree to another boulder and a large bush, Sera made her way closer to where the snap was. The snow barely made a sound under her boots.

One, two, three, and if she craned her neck a bit, there were four and five. Too many for the two of them. Shale looked big enough to smash a man's face in, but five, even with Sera's help, might be too much. Though…

The black clad figures - why do bad guys always wear black? - talked in what sounded like Tevinter. Which was weird. Most people in Tevinter spoke trade tongue. Just made everything easier in the long run. Everyone understood you if you spoke in common.

Sera listened for a bit. She didn't know many words in Tevinter, but she did know enough to ask where the toilet was, where the bar was, and who gets paid what and when. She understood the words set up, stay and camp.

Who said she never learned anything?

They'd be much easier to get rid of if they were all sleeping. Knife to the neck not an arrow to the face. Yeah. Sera silently slipping through shadows returned to the golem and held her finger up against her lips. The golem, Shale - right, right Shale - eyed her curiously.

Shale knew the meaning of putting one's finger to one's lips. One must be silent. Shale, unable to convey through facial expressions that she did in fact understand, nodded and lowered her voice - which was already quite low and gravely - "Has the rambunctious archer found something?"

Sera's face screwed up immediately. She felt it. "Rambunctious? Who the hell are you-" her eyes narrowed trying to see if she could pick up any hint of sarcasm from the golem. She couldn't. Bloody stupid golems. "Shhh. We've got Tevinters about three hundred feet from here. They're gonna make camp. Can you be quiet and move without getting all stompy?"

If it was at all possible, Shale would have raised her eyebrows. As she lacked an eyebrow ridge to do so, she instead gave the elf one quick shake of her head.

"Damn," Sera grumbled quietly. "Can't move you, can't avoid them if they patrol." She turned around surveying their tiny camp. Wait. Golems looked like large bits of rock, yeah? So, so, what if…? Yeah. Yeah. "Golem thingy. You want to sit on the fire and make yourself a big rock while I run back to Haven? It's dark, they won't notice you if it's dark, right? Just another boulder, right? Who could tell until sunrise, right? Right. Get down, I'll go. You stay."

"Desist yammering or I will crush it." Shale replied tersly. Mortals. Squishy, talking, mortals. She lumbered, not quietly as she was incapable of moving silently, slowly so as not to disturb much around them to the dying fire. With one foul glance at the elf, Shale put out the fire by simply settling on it, curling in on herself and muttering. "If it does not return by morning, I shall be very annoyed."

"Did you just call me it?" Sera asked, again unable to tell if she - pretty sure Shale's a girl if a bitchy one - was being sarcastic or rude.

The eyes of the golem seemed to roll before closing and her head bowing into her knees. Fucking scary right. That golem looked like a big damn rock.

* * *

His eyes, those eyes I love, were hollow and tired with pain. I can only imagine how much pain he's in. There is red lyrium in his scars. _There is red lyrium in his scars_. Tiny ridgid bumps of crystals growing out of his skin. No. No. This isn't happening. _This can't be happening_. The silver white glow of the tattoos was ten times as bright once all of those rags were off in favor of armor. Bright red-orange, like some kind of horrible lightshow.

I'm going to be sick.

No, El. You hold your shit together because he's about ten seconds from killing Dorian just for being a magister. Dorian with his big mouth talking about fixing this, just making Fenris more, and more angry. I could see the glow of the lyrium under Fenris' skin start to shine brightly.

"Dorian," I snapped at the mage. "Knock it off." I got between them, breaking Fenris' line of sight. "If you don't want this to become permanent," I said to the room in general, "we need Dorian alive. Do you all understand?"

Fenris' movements were slower than those of the elf I left behind. He moved like an older man, stiffly with the occasional flex of the hands or arm. He gathered his weapons and donned his armor without a single word to me or anyone else.

Leliana wordlessly helped him. Since when were they friendly? Since I supposedly died I suppose.

That nagging part of my mind returns to the empty cell. There is supposed to be an elf in there praying to Andraste. "Where is Alistair?" "Alistair." I said his name like I was choking. Maybe because my subconscious knew something my conscious mind was refusing to admit. No one would meet my gaze. My heartbeat started to bump double time. "Where," I repeated slowly, "is Alistair?"

"He was executed." Fenris' voice was hollow, "after we were captured."

"As an example," Leliana continued, "of what happens to those that stand against them. He raised a rebellion in your name. He tried to lead, but," she spared me a glance from under a drooping, scarred eyelid, "you know Alistair."

I couldn't breathe. Not a single molecule of air entered or exited my lungs. No. No. No. Absolutely not. He can't be. I brought him with me to keep an eye on him and…and he died anyway. Alistair...my goofy, lovable teddy bear of a best friend. Someone I loved more than anything. There wasn't anything in this world or the other that compared to knowing he died fighting my battle. I didn't even know I was crying until something wet slid its way off my chin to the floor.

Dorian began on his speech and I didn't have the heart to stop him.

I didn't have a heart at all. My lungs still wouldn't draw in breath and my chest felt agonizingly hollow. Alistair. My buddy. My best friend. The guy who knew more about me than anyone in two worlds…was gone.

No. This day wasn't set in stone. We had to move and reset the timeline. I'll break the goddamn universe if I have to. "We need to go." I managed with a rasp.

Leliana, this cold, scarred, version of the woman I knew took my left forearm in hers. "Anger is stronger than any pain."

I hoped she was right. I needed her to be right.

The rest of it was a blur until we reached the room right before the massive rift. I'd been going through the motions, taking out my sadness and pain on unwitting Venatori and demons.

"He loved you." Fenris said it softly to me as we paused and Dorian spoke once more to the group at large. "He may have courted other women. His eyes never left you."

I blinked, tears forming, "Don't tell me that. Don't do that. Don't Fenris."

"It is something you should know. I should have stood aside. I suspected and stayed at Haven anyway. Because I loved you too." He went past me to the door and pushed it open.

I too entered the room and went after the first bastard I saw. It took a few minutes, and this was the first rift I'd run into that didn't close after the second round of spawning demons. My wrist stung when it finally closed.

I took the last piece of the puzzle from the rift and went to the door. I opened it and there were Alexius and his possessed son.

* * *

They arrived at Therinfal Redoubt the morning after Elyria was taken forward in time. Though none of them knew that until much later. The skies were a clear cheery blue, the sun was bright and golden shining down on them with warmth that belied the cold of the coming winter. From perches in trees the birds chirped happily at them.

Their morning meal had been pleasant if a bit bland. Porridge again.

Things, Bull thought, looked too nice to be so bad.

Cassandra took the lead, because, after all, she was still a part of the Templar Order. "Agents of the Inquisition-"

The templars at the gates almost sagged with relief, sharing a glance between themselves in silent communication. "Ser Barris," one of them said, "said you would come. The Lord Commander has been awaiting your arrival."

It was at this point, Fenris noted, that Varric would have turned to Elyria and Elyria would have turned to the dwarf and their conversation would have been as follows:

'So, trap?' Varric would have asked, adjusting Bianca on his back.

'Trap.' Elyria would have shrugged and stated with an unconcerned air.

'As long as we're all on the same page.' Varric would have replied with a wink.

At which point Alistair would have said, 'Are we really walking into a fortress with a trap waiting to spring?' He would have looked at all of them, sighed a long, loud sigh, followed by, 'Honestly, I think the lot of you like to court death.'

'Court?' Elyria would have laughed. 'I want to ask him to dance in the pale moonlight.'

The dwarf would have set up Bianca, Elyria would have pulled her blades. Then they would have all walked into the fire and somehow, despite everything, come out alive at the end. However, neither Elyria or Varric were here to state the obvious. Alistair was not here to be a voice of reason.

How, Fenris asked himself, did he manage to find (and fall in love with) a woman who walked herself into danger so very often? If he was going to be honest with himself, counting Varric, Hawke and Alistair among his friends, he seemed to be attracted to people who liked to walk into danger. This lot, he glanced around at the Qunari, the mage, and the Seeker, seemed no better.

Fenris opened his mouth to say something along the lines of this is a trap when:

"This is quite obviously a trap." Lady Vivienne took hold of her staff, using it as a walking stick if only as a pretense.

"Oh good. I thought I was the only one thinking that." Bull replied much too cheerily. He loosened the straps on his back for his axe.

The gates rolled upward. Collectively, they went in.

* * *

"Go," This future version of Fenris orders us. "Go, fix this."

Seeing him there, with Leliana scarred and ready to die, the courage finally came to me. "I love you."

He slowed, then, mid-step turned and crossed the handful of steps between us in a blink. He grabbed me hard, with one hand while the other went to the back of my neck and pulled me forward. Fenris' mouth crushed to mine in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. His scars burned against my skin and I didn't give a damn. I kissed him back just as hard.

"They are coming," Leliana warned.

Fenris broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine, his tattoos burning hot against my skin, both of us catching our breath. "I have always loved you, even in anger. Tell me when you get back. Tell me even if I do not want to hear it. Fix this. Then fix us."

"I will, I promise."

"I am yours Elyria Duke, always." There is such a finality to him saying it. The first of Leliana's shots goes off as the doors began to breach.

Dorien pulled my arm as Fenris broke our embrace.

The elf I love turned, the lyrium scars lighting up a deep silver laced red. He roars at them in rage as Dorian's spell begins working, a portal that will put us back in our own time is forming while Fenris and Leliana are beginning to take arrows. I want to help them, but I know I can't. We can't.

This future had to be stopped before it cemented and became reality. I spared one small moment to watch Dorian work, to see the swirling blue, purple and white vortex opening. There was an awful sound, like a blade cutting something. I turned my attention back and Fenris was on the ground, a big, ugly sword in his chest. He wasn't moving and blood was pooling in a dark red puddle. I screamed his name as Leliana began to give way, her shots slowing as she took damage. There were arrows in her, in him, oh _god_.

And I could not move.

"It's open," Dorian told me with urgency, "we have to go."

With my heart breaking, and tears in my eyes, I turned and followed him through.


	15. Chapter 15, Just One Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I published by the following week. For all those who were wondering (and those who probably don't care) there will be a sex scene soon. Very soon. Possibly in chapter sixteen.
> 
> This story is now nearly over 150 pages.
> 
> I hope everyone is staying home, and if you can't, stay safe.

The Beatles - Hey Jude

Panic! At the Disco - Say Amen

George Ezra - Did You Hear The Rain?

Fitz and the Tantrums - The Walker

Kongos - Come With Me Now

Fall Out Boy - Centuries

FatBoySlim - Demons

Jetta - I'd Love to Change the World

Imagine Dragons - Believer

twenty one pilots - Heathens

* * *

Chapter 15:

There was one night, he remembered vividly despite the years between then and now, where Alistair and Elyria curled together on the same sleeping mat. Fenris could not name where they were specifically, only that it was him, Hawke, Alistiar and Elyria. Fenris stood watch, unable to look at the two of them curled up like that. He'd heard the briefest of pained, frightened shouts go up from behind him.

He turned around to find Alistair wrapped in Elyria's arms, his head against her chest, his arms around her, shaking with some nameless fear. "Where were you?" She asked him gently, motioning to the sleep addled Hawke to go back to bed.

Alistair gripped her tightly, wordlessly.

"It's okay. It's okay. I'm here." she stroked his hair and back, almost rocking him. "Do you want to talk about it or do you want to go back to sleep?"

"Sleep." He told her tiredly, "could you sing? Just a little Ellie?"

"Sure," she told him with a patient, tired smile. "What do you want to hear?"

"That one about Jude by," he frowned, deep creases forming on his brow, "the bugs?"

Elyria chuckled, tapping his nose. "By the Beatles?"

He settled down next to her. "That's what they're called? What a," he yawned, "silly name."

She too curled up, and began to sing softly. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."

In the present, Fenris hummed the song to himself. He felt the thready pulse of anticipatory energy flooding through his muscles. They knowingly walked into a trap, one that would spring any moment. In times like this is when Alistair would tell him, to take a deep breath and count backwards from fifty. Or spell some ridiculously long word that he was only vaguely acquainted with so his temper had time to cool. At his sides his fingers curled loosely.

Cassandra and Barris spoke about the Lord Seeker.

Barris sighed deeply. "The Lord Seeker's actions make no sense. He promised to restore the Order's honor, then marched us here to wait? Templars should know their duty, even when held from it." He cast his gaze over all of them.

"A templar who remembers his responsibilities? I am reassured." Lady Vivienne sounded anything but to Fenris.

In fact, he would have classified that as sarcasm.

"The Herald told me…" Barris paused, took a step closer to Cassandra and thereby the rest of them. "Did she tell you as well?"

Cassandra's head bobbed. "She did. Have there been signs?"

Barris nodded slowly. "A few, but we are prohibited from investigations. My hands," he looked down at the gauntlets he wore, "are tied until we know one way or the other." He took a step or two back, "Help us and every able-bodied knight will help the Inquisition seal the Breach."

"If you think we're right," the Iron Bull said, in (what Fenris assumed) a plea for them to see sense, "abandon the Lord Seeker. Join the Inquisition."

"We cannot abandon our orders." Barris stated. "Not while the officers who survived the Conclave continue to follow him."

Bull scoffed.

"We've been asked to accept much, after that shameful display in Val Royeaux. Our truth changes on the hour. Follow me." The gates opened and they followed collectively.

"The Lord Seeker has a...request before you meet him."

While Barris explained the Standards to Cassandra, Fenris, in a low tone, spoke to Bull in Qunlat. "Is this a stall tactic?"

Bull looked down at him, replying in Qunlat, "your accent is awful."

So he'd been told previously. "Regardless."

"No," Bull told him, surreptitiously taking in the area around them. The men scattered, the almost ominous feeling. "They're trying to do their jobs. Loyal to the last." He glanced around to see if anyone indicated that they understood the conversation. Satisfied that there seemed to be no overt signs that someone else spoke Qunlat there. "Loyal until they're dead if they're not careful."

Cassandra and Lady Vivienne spoke about the importance of the Chantry over the importance of the Templar Order, faith versus loyalty. Fenris grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. Iron Bull rolled his eyes and the two waited while the other two figured it out. When they finally agreed on something - Fenris couldn't help but note if Elyria had been there she might have simply broken the wheels and smiled while she did it- and the flags were in place Barris told them they had to explain their choices to the people gathered.

As if these people hadn't just heard the two of them argue for a ten minutes about which to choose and why.

He never was one for sitting on the sidelines. "No." Fenris, swiping rain dampened locks of white hair from his eyes. "Enough. The flags are in place, the rite is done. Lead on." _It's kind of a turn on when you're aggressive._ Elyria's voice echoed in his ears as they followed Barris.

The negotiations table, as it was so commonly known, turned out to be a physical table in a poorly lit room. Fenris almost smiled at the idea. Elyria would have made a comment. Alistair would have said something in return. Varric no doubt would have made another comment, equally sarcastic. He in turn would have pointed out how ominous the room seemed, the number of templars and the heavy atmosphere. He breathed in, the smell of anxiety and tension permeating the air.

"This," Fenris said in Qunlat to the Iron Bull, "is going to happen sooner rather than later."

Bull rolled his shoulders, cracking the bones in his neck, then his knuckles in succession. "Oh good. I thought we'd have to go through with all the posturing."

"It is impolite," the Lady Vivienne remarked, "to speak in another language with others around."

"And irritating." Cassandra muttered.

"Just talking about the," Bull cast around at the men and women of the Templar Order in the room just before they came to a full stop at the table before them. "Tension being thicker than the fog up north."

Fenris had to give it to the Qunari, he was undeniably blunt for a spy.

More talking followed and just when Fenris was beginning to believe perhaps he was just imagining things, there was yelling from the courtyard. Shouting from a hallway nearby. Cries of alarm going up through the keep. The Knight Captain who had been somewhat odd, drew his sword.

Ah. There was the other shoe dropping.

"Are you certain it is a demon?" Cassandra asked the Herald, Elyria, before any of the parties left Haven. They stood outside the gates of Haven, having just walked to the training dummies.

"Envy demon." The Herald answered solemnly. "I am absolutely certain. It is going to be bad. That's why I'm sending Bull. He's a battering ram on two legs. Vivienne is both terrifying and talented with magic, she'll be his backup. Fenris," the blonde woman paused on his name, her mouth curving with a frown before, "Fenris can slip through the fade because of his tattoos. And Alistair, he trained to be a templar. You know how powerful a smite can be when a properly trained person does it."

"I do. Tell me what else."

Elyria grimly cast her gaze out toward the lake. "The red lyrium, the mages, the templars, they'll be poisoned with it. It will turn them into monstrosities."

With that conversation in mind, Cassandra had been expecting horrors. What Cassandra did not expect was the lyrium growing out of the templars. She slammed her shield into one as Bull's axe came sideways, lodging into the side, and armor of a possessed, defiled templar. Ugh. If not for the rush of battle, she might have been ill.

"Venhedis!" Fenris snarled, ripping his hand out of a man's throat and letting the body drop along with the bloody - her stomach churned - bits of flesh in his hand. "They keep coming!"

"And they will continue until we kill the demon." Lady Vivienne wiped sweat from her brow.

Grimly Cassandra tightened the strap on her shield. "Onward. The more templars we save, the closer we are to victory."

Onward they went.

It was only after they reached the second, or was it third, courtyard the group, including Barris, began to feel a sense of true uneasiness. Previously it was akin to the desire to move and keep moving, and gather templars to them. They had a small contingent now, five templars in addition to their small party.

"Inquisition," a voice unearthly as it was deep and booming, "It is time we became better acquainted."

Around them rain poured from the sky, the ground soaking wet with mud and blood. They climbed the stairs, the rescued templars watching their backs. At the top stood another templar, one that made Fenris uneasy. There was something off, not simply that he stood staring at a closed door.

It might have been because he reached the top of the stairs first. He was quick, long legs tended to give one an advantage. Bull was only a single step behind and to the side. Fenris' eyes never left the templar but somehow, despite his attention, the man turned and grabbed him, dragging him forward with an unearthly strength.

For him, the world went white, silent and blinding. Shielding his eyes did nothing to stop it. At some point the templar let him go, but in a sea of blinding white nothingness, there was no templar to be found. Eventually, blessedly, there was sound again. Color again when he blinked. It took a few tries to clear his vision and focus.

The burning smell came only after he realized the crackling sounds were a nearby fire. It was a mistake to open his eyes. The dead, burned, charred carcasses of people caught in a moment of agony and horror lined the walkway. Poor bastards.

The ground seethed with mounds of blackish green energy while the fog around him thinned and thickened without so much as a breeze. He took a handful of tentative steps in bare feet. No that wasn't right, he'd been wearing boots to protect his feet from the snow when they left Haven. He left them on because of the rain when they reached the strong hold. Forest green eyes narrowed as he cast around, taking in everything. The unnatural green glow truly gave him a weighty sense of other-worldliness.

Twenty crowns this was the fade. The demon managed to pull him through because of his markings. Fenris let out a colorful stream of words in arcanum and glared at the fade surrounding him. The only way out, he was unhappy to admit it, was no doubt _though_.

Yet again, his markings, these blasted tattoos drawing him into danger.

And a certain blonde.

With a grunt of both annoyance and frustration, Fenris walked a few more feet before figures formed in the mist. A few more steps and they became clear. Cullen, a man he'd known for years and the Antivan diplomat, Josephine. Why her? Both were stock still, their faces flat, emotionless. A gasp sounded from the trees behind them.

He wasn't quite sure what form to expect the demon to take. The last one he thought would be Elyria herself. He jerked unable to keep himself from reacting as the demon adjusted her clothes and touched her body with its hands. "Is this shape useful?" It asked in a voice that was both hers and not hers, "will it let me know you?" The demons smiled at him with Elyria's mouth. The lips he'd kissed a hundred times. "Everything tells me about you."

Was this what Elyria liked to call the villain monologuing? He finally understood it. And how damn annoying it could be.

"Are you done?" He snapped at the evil walking in Elyria's form.

She'd been approaching Cullen with a dagger, but stopped and gazed at him with the same mint-green eyes belonging to his love. Both Jospehine and Cullen's forms crumpled to the ground as if dead. "Are you done?" It mimicked in his voice from her lips.

He fought a shudder of revulsion.

It walked up to him, around him, toying with a dagger. "I wanted the Herald, boy. Not _you_." It almost sounded disappointed at the prospect of taking his skin. "Being you," it chuckled darkly, "will get me close to the Herald. Close enough to have her."

Fenris snarled at it. "Not while I live." He swung at it, his right arm lit up the fog and dim area, just as it disappeared. Not foolish enough to believe the demon had fled, he turned a few times, waiting for it.

"Do you know what the Inquisition could become?" It appeared behind him, forcing him to step forward and away. Just as he turned to grab it with his arm luminencient in the fade, it disappeared again. "You'll see." The voice, less Elyria's now said. "When I'm done, the Elder One will kill all of you and ascend." It laughed again, an unearthly laugh that sent cold and fear down his spine. "Then I will be _her_."

Ascension? It reminded him of...no. They destroyed that thing. Him, Hawke, Isabella and Bethany. They _destroyed_ the creature. Hawke killed it himself. And yet...Fenris' stomach sank with a feeling of dread. Maker let it not be so.

He must have been silent too long.

The demon appeared once again, "Glory is coming. And the Elder One wants you to serve him like everyone else: By dying in the right way." It laughed as if it made a joke.

"I'll die when it is my time, demon. Not before, and not when you or your master say." This time when Fenris lashed out with his arm faded blue and spectral, he grabbed a bit of its clothing and tore it.

The demon snarled at him, perhaps in fear, perhaps in anger, perhaps in both. "I am Envy! I _will_ know you!"

Fenris, wordlessly, lashed out again, both arms this time. He reached and tried to grab but the demon escaped him. He must have scared it sufficiently because it retreated, remaining in the shadows as it demanded he tell it what he felt, what he saw.

Fenris remained silent, clearing his mind lest the demon attempt to read it. To his left a doorway appeared. The area he was in began to darken, the edges of it graying until the fog pressed in close. He had no choice it seemed, he went to the door, pausing before he went through it. Who knew what the demon might show him.

He took one step past the doorway and found himself in a room much like that of the alchemist's in Haven. There stood an image of him, next to an image of Elyria. Had he seemed so cold?

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most pissed off you've ever been in your life, and one being kind of angry but some groveling might work it off, how angry with me are you?" The memory of Elyria asked.

Fenris swallowed, walking past and through another doorway before he could hear his reply. He remembered it well enough. He did not need to live it again.

The next doorway led to a courtyard. Here he saw Elyria standing with her advisors, and a soldier. "Our enemies have surrendered unconditionally." Cullen told her proudly. "The Inquisition's strength rivals any kingdom in Thedas."

Fenris sincerely questioned the validity of the statement. The Qun might have taken argument as well.

"Our reach," the demon said with Elyria's voice, "begins to match my ambition - but we will strive for more."

He could have scoffed. Elyria? Ambitious? There were things his love was, hot headed, vengeful, rude, crass, loving, lustful, brilliant, beautiful, snarky, kind, hopeful - ambition never figured into her personality. She would much rather lie in bed and sleep than attempt to conquer the known world. Silently he walked past them, all of them turning (eerily) to watch him leave. Just as he was a step out of range they went up in fire and smoke.

Jump scares, Elyria called it once. Mental manipulation.

In the next room the fire burned green, spewing out of stone dragons with such force he felt the heat from twenty paces. Watching for a moment he took in the shift and turns of the pillars. The demon, wearing the face of the templar that dragged him into the fade, ran past, disappearing into fire and smoke.

While the demon once again taunted him with what the Elder One was going to do. Would do. Another voice came. Gentle, patient.

"You're hurting, helpless, hasty." The voice said. "What happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?"

Another doorway appeared, allowing Fenris to avoid the fire all together. He used the power of his tattoos to fade through the barrier.

The demon, sounding both surprised and irritated said, "What are you? Get out! This is my place!"

There was someone else in here? Were they a templar?

Fenris found the room odd, holding a grotesque outgrowth of rock resembling a face. He left, the trails of ghostly whispers following after him. He returned to the room with the fire dragons. Another room appeared, with growths of tree-like structures growing out of the ground and up into the ceiling. Furniture was on the walls, defying nature.

He began to turn to leave when the voice said, "Wait."

While reading Elyria's memoirs, Fenris came to some conclusions. The first, though he never would ever admit this to anyone, there were spirits of the fade that did not mean one harm. The second, that Elyria and Alistiar had known not one abomination but two. The spirit of faith joined their friend Wynne, a mage, and brought her back from the brink of death. Yet never became the monstrosity that Anders did. In her book Elyria theorized that Anders, having spent decades resentful of templars and the chantry, took Justice somewhere dark where the spirit could be corrupted. While Wynne never did.

By itself, Justice was neither good nor evil. It simply was.

By itself, Faith was neither good nor evil. It simply was.

He would also never admit that meant the blood mage - he could have spat - was right.

Had he not come to this realization, he might have reacted badly when the blonde boy appeared in the doorway. Habits are hard to kill, however, and Fenris did react badly. He cursed in arcanum, one hand went for his blade.

The boy made no move to stop Fenris.

A boy he was, perhaps somewhere between fourteen and seventeen, slight (thinner than Fenris was if that was to be believed), with a blemished face. The kind of blemishes Fenris vaguely remembered having when he was a boy that young and the oils on his skin were annoyingly uncooperative. A wide brim hat, laughably large, and clothing that seemed slightly off on a boy his age.

He blinked and the boy was gone.

"Envy is hurting you." The boy's voice came, "Mirrors on mirrors on memories. A face it can feel, not fake. I want to help. You, not Envy."

The part of him that held the deeply entrenched beliefs about fade demons shouted no! The rational part of his mind cautioned accepting help from an unknown spirit. Carefully, mindful of what he said, "What help can a fade spirit offer without possession?"

The boy sounded confused. "I'm Cole. We're inside you." Fenris felt the fear prickle along the back of his neck. "Or I am," the boy continued, "You are always inside you."

One of his greatest fears, realized, and yet - nothing happened. There was no loss of his sense of self. No horrifying monstrosity taking his form. Fenris, fighting his nature, attempted to remain as calm as possible. This, as Alistair would have put it, was the stuff nightmares were made of.

"It's easy to hear, harder to be a part of what you are hearing." The voice solidified behind him. "But I'm here, hearing, helping." Fenris turned around in time to see the boy, sitting cross legged on the ceiling, attempting to smile at him. "I hope." The smile faded. "Envy hurt you, is hurting you. I tried to help. Then I was here, in the hearing. It's - it's not usually like this."

Fenris scowled at him. "Make sense spirit."

"It never works like that." The boy told him softly with a small laugh.

Of course not. Just as he was about to speak again, there was a familiar growling sound from the doorway. Fenris turned his head, watching it warily. The boy, right now, presented less of a danger than the other things here in the fade - in his head - with them.

"I was watching. I watch." The boy told him, drawing Fenris' attention back to him. This time the boy was on the bed, sitting on the headboard, water leaking down the walls behind him. "Every templar knew when you arrived. They were impressed, but not like the Lord Seeker."

Fenris assumed the Lord Seeker was the templar that dragged him into the fade. "He's a demon. He wants me to get closer to-"

"Your love. Yes." The boy nodded. "She loves you, needs you, thinks of you now, calls your name in her head."

Fenris didn't know how to react to that. "You read minds."

"I can make you forget," the boy said, sounding almost sad about it, "if it bothers you. That helps."

"No!" Fenris ground the word between his teeth.

"No." The boy nodded "You need all of you right now to fight. Maybe later."

"Not later, not ever." Fenris nearly yelled at him. "My memories are mine. My thoughts are mine."  
"Her thoughts aren't yours, they are of you."

It was difficult for Fenris to maintain anger at the boy when he spoke with such childish confusion. The boy almost reminded Fenris of Nettie's young niece, Bennet's wife's child, Alma. At four years old she made loud proclamations and statements that evidenced both her youth and naivete. Just like the boy made.

He needed to let it go and think for now. Think about what the boy, Cole, told him. If they were inside his head, then-

"You are frozen, Envy is trying to take your face, I heard it and reached out, and then I was here."

"Stop reading my mind." He snapped at the spirit. "How am I frozen?"

"Thoughts are fast. We're here. Outside, a blade is still falling, hanging in the air like sunset." What was the thing Elyria said once? What was it called? The theory of rela-something. When the speed of something is a perception. It had a name. "Relativity." Cole said it, plucking it from Fenris' mind. "No. Not exactly. No time is passing. You don't know the word for that and she is too busy for me to ask. It would not be good if you stayed."

Then he would ask again. "What help can a fade spirit offer without possession?"

"All of this is Envy: People, places, power. If you keep going, Envy stretches. It takes strength to make more. Being one person is hard. Being many, too many, more and more, and Envy breaks down, you break out."

"If I continue on, Envy with begin to wear." Fenris concluded.

"Maybe. I hope it helps." The boy said. "It's better than sitting here waiting to lose your face." The boy without another word walked toward the door and went through.

In for a penny, Varric's voice said in Fenris' head.

Cole poked his head back into the room. "This way."

Because he had no other choice, Fenris followed. The fire still swallowed the ground before them when he stopped. He could feel the burn of it from a handful of feet away.

Cole on the other hand walked right up to it. "Ideas are loud here. Make them louder. Think of water."

Water. That's it. Water? These fonts reminded him of a waterfall. He closed his eyes, thinking of it. A torrent of water falling over cliffs. Roaring over the sound of fire. When he reopened his eyes, the fire had been replaced by fonts spouting torrents of crystal clear, cool water.

Cole grinned at him happily. "Water."

Fenris heard the demon's voice again, but he ignored it, walking through the doorway beyond. The world went white again. In the end, Fenris never truly knew how long he was in his own head, trapped by Envy.

* * *

We came back through a handful of feet from where we were. There was Alistair, alive and well next to Varric. Exactly where he was when we were removed from the timeline. I wanted to run to him, throw myself at him and cry into his chest for a thousand days, but that is not what happened.

"You'll have to do better than that." Dorian said his line.

But me. I was too angry. I grabbed Alexius by his shirt and shook him. "You bastard."

"You won," he said dejectedly.

"Not good enough! I watched people I love die!"

"There's no point extending this charade." The defeated magister's complete lack of fight took the anger right out of me. I dropped him and he fell to his knees. "Felix."

"It's going to be alright father."

"You'll die."

"Everyone dies." This poor guy.

I motioned and the Inquisition guards came. They gathered Alexius, and left with Felix in tow.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with." Dorian said with much too cheery an attitude.

The anger in me just wanted to brew, boil and bubble.

The marching of soldiers in heavy armor happened at the exact moment the doors to the castle opened. Right on cue, here came Anora with her contingent of soldiers. Ooo goodie, my ire had a new target.

Stomp stomp stomp stomp.

Really I don't like these guys. They're too...coordinated.

"Or not." Dorian said, eyeing the blonde walking with her head held high down the center of the walkway.

The Queen looked a bit older than I'd last seen her. There were a few new grays in her honey blonde hair, and the beginnings of crows feet at the corners of her eyes. "Grand Enchanter Fiona." Seems like someone's spine has some more steel in it than the last time we met.

"Queen Anora!" I kind of feel bad for Fiona. She's getting a tongue lashing she really does not deserve.

"Should we step in?" Solas prompted in a low tone.

"When I granted your mages sanctuary," Anora would never be a good warrior. She didn't even look around at who was in the room. "I thought it was understood that they would not force my people from their homes." Oh hell no. I'm the one who gets to be pissed off here.

I just watched my boyfriend die.

"Your majesty, let me assure you, we never intended any of this…" Fiona bowed her head in supplication.

"Your intentions ceased to matter when my people were threatened."

Alistair - with whom I still had a whole can of worms to deal with - edged closer to them.

"I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary-"

"Oh come off it Anora." I took the couple of steps down from the raised part of the courtroom. "Jesus, after ten years I figured either you or Aedan would have pulled that stick out of your ass. But no, it's still lodged up there with your high horse and the holier than thou attitude." What? I said I was still angry. We've never actually had it out over the time my fiance agreed to marry her and asked me to be his side chick.

Anora added to the wrinkles on her forehead by furrowing her brow as her attention turned to me. I waved at her with the marked hand. Her gaze darted to the faint green crack in the middle of my palm. Her eyes widened, mouth parting just a bit. That's right, add to those marionette lines. She faltered for barely a second before recomposing herself into the Queen of Ferelden. "Elyria…" It sounded like she was afraid to say my name. "How good to see you again."

I scoffed, stopping next to Fiona. "Please. We both know _that's_ a lie." Look at me refraining from rolling my eyes at her. "Grand Enchanter, I am formally inviting you, on behalf of the Inquisition, to have your mages join our ranks."

Fiona's gaze shot over my left shoulder for the briefest of moments before her spine straightened up. Head higher than it was when the Queen was scolding her. "And what are the terms of this arrangement?"

"Hopefully better than Alexius gave you." Dorian's swagger is a thing I could spend a lifetime trying to imitate and would never achieve the level of confidence in every step. "The Inquisition is better than that," those big brown eyes of his were on me. "Yes?"

"A thousand times better." Alistair said, much too enthusiastically. "Ten thousand times better." For some reason, just hearing him talk grated on my nerves.

Solas opened his mouth for his line, and I'm sure Varric would have gone too but I just really didn't want to hear it. I was in a damn mood. "Take it or leave it Grand Enchanter. Your choice."

Her eyes, they went over my left shoulder again. "It seems we have little choice but to accept whatever you offer."

"Good. Great. Wonderful. Allies it is." A lot of the tension drained from her immediately. I turned my attention to my newest companion. "Dorian, would you please help the Grand Enchanter figure out the logistics of packing up two hundred odd people and moving them out?"

"Of course. Grand Enchanter," he motioned to her.

"Thank you." She said, sounding almost truly grateful. Together they began to make their way out.

"Elyria," the Queen of Ferelden turned to me, giving me what I could only assume was her best, diplomatic smile. "I am happy that there are no hard feelings between us. When I last saw Alistair," my buddy snorted somewhere behind me, "he was not quite as understanding."

Somewhere, distantly, I heard Varric let out a soft, "Oh shit."

You know what? No. Nope. We're not playing this game. "Your ass is sitting on his birthright, so yeah, I get why he's not okay with you."

Her diplomatic smile dissolved instantly.

"And no, there are no hard feelings _Your Grace_." Douse her title in sarcasm and light that shit on fire. "After all, _I'm_ the one who got the offer to be your husband's mistress and turned it down out of self respect." Then, leaning in, "How does it feel to have two husbands willing to cheat on you?"

Her gaze hardened and, with a sharpness to her voice she said: "Get out of my kingdom."

Smiling a wide, bright smile, "Love to. Agents of the Inquisition," I circled one hand in the air. "Move out!" We're nowhere near as organized, or stompy, but we've got numbers. And our uniforms are pretty cool.

Alistair managed to hold it together for exactly three seconds after we cleared the castle gates. "Ellie! Ellie!" He bounced like a child. "That was so…" he yammered on but in my head, all I could hear were the other Leliana and Fenris.

_He raised a rebellion in your name. He tried to lead, but you know Alistair._

I might have let the residual anger get the better of me. While he was excitedly talking about confronting Anora after all these years, I stopped walking and he stopped walking. Varric and Solas too, stopped walking. Alistair grabbed my shoulders, or at least went to.

"You idiot." I snapped at him right before I hit him square in the jaw. "You complete and total idiot! Why did you have to-" Go and fall for me? Me of all the people in the world, two words. Me? Fuck. He held his jaw, looking at me with shock and confusion. "Why wouldn't you say something? After all these years?" He didn't get it. I could read it all over his face. He did not get it. Which just made everything worse. "Stay out of my sight."

* * *

The three of them looked at Ellie's back as she stalked off. If that was the right word. Varric drew a blank where the word between sulk and stalk should have been. Any faster and she'd be running.

Cheesy stood there looking confused as hell at Ellie's back, holding his face together with one hand. Varric would have laughed if the poor boy didn't look like a lost puppy. Poor guy. His secret was out.

"I think she knows Cheesy."

"Knows? Knows what?" Alistair asked in confusion, holding his jaw where Ellie had given him one hell of a punch. For what? He didn't know.

"She _knows_." Varric said with more emphasis.

Alistair, still dumbfounded as to what exactly Varric was alluding to, glared at the dwarf. "_Knows what_?"

Solas, sighing deeply, what fools mortals could be, took it upon himself to end the confusion. "He doesn't know himself, Varric."

"Well shit." Varric grunted in response. "I don't know what to say. I don't think this has ever happened before." Shocked and mildly disturbed by the reality that he had nothing he could say to Alistair to get him to see what was pretty obvious to everyone but Alistair, Fenris and up until a few minutes ago Elyria. "I have no words." He, Hawke, Isabella, Leandra and Bohdan had a bet on it. Of course none of them accounted for Alistair not _knowing_.

"You tell him." Varric finally said to Solas.

"Me?" Solas asked incredulously, "do you think it wise?"

"He won't believe me, he's known me too long. You, he's known a month." Varric pointed out with crossed arms. "Hell, I had a bet on it."

"You had a bet on what?" Alistair demanded. Andraste, yelling made his jaw ache. "Solas, do you think you could?" He motioned to his jaw which he was fairly sure was at least sprained if not fractured.

The elf, unlike every other magic user Alistair had ever encountered, made no protest about healing a simple injury that would heal with a few days of rest. "Alistair," Solas began as the cooling air of magic permeated the warden's skin, "when you are with Elyria, does it make you feel warm, happy, comfortable?"

"Of course, she's my best friend." He said after his jaw began to feel much, much better. "Why?"

"That's not the way we feel about our best friends Cheesy." Varric grumbled at him. "You think I feel like that about Hawke? Sure, he's a great guy but I don't tell him I love him."

"That's just something Ellie does." He dismissed quickly. "She says she loves you too."

"Yeah, not the way she says it to you." At Alistair's still confused expression. "Andraste's frilly bits, Alistair, you can't possibly be this _dense_."

"Self preservation is a difficult thing to overcome Varric," Solas told him sadly. "If Elyria had kissed you rather than hit you, Alistair. Would you have kissed her back?"

Well...well…that was a fantasy once. A very long time ago when a pretty girl fell out of a tree. A pair of pink lips in a lopsided grin when she handed him those sour candies that stuck to his teeth. Water droplets on sun-warmed skin as she laughed with him in the lake. The stir of her breath when they slept. Alistair suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

"Oh Maker. I...um...I have to…" He put his hand to his jaw and rubbed over the area again wanting to feel the ghost of pain to ground his brain in the here and now rather than think about, well, anything else. "I have to...go. I have to go." Go he did, walking away with a dazed, befuddled, and uncertain look on his face.

"We should try to get rooms at the tavern. I don't want to be anywhere near that fight."

"Are you quite sure it will be a fight? Perhaps they will-"

"Elyria is still in love with Fenris. The moody, broody elf with all the tattoos who is also still in love with her. Her best friend just realized he has probably been in love with her for over a decade. She found out. You really want to be around when the shit hits?"

Solas, sighing once more, "I think not."

"Me either Chuckles."

In fact, as the two of them found out later when they couldn't get a room at the tavern at all, it wasn't a fight. They returned to camp to find Alistair setting up his own tent, silently with another fresh bruise on top of the old one. He did not ask to be healed this time.

It was a tense three day ride back to Haven.


End file.
